Sisterly Affection
by yaoidarkness16
Summary: Dean thought it couldn't get any worse than his time in hell when he'd just discovered that he was having 'more than brotherly' feelings for his younger sister. A fact which Alastair exploited without hesitation. Yeah, that had sucked. Dean thought that had been the worst time of his life and afterlife. (Fem¡Sam)
1. Prologue

**|Story— Sisterly Affection|**

**|Chapter One— Prologue|**

Dean had thought it couldn't get any worse than his time in hell, when he had just discovered that he was having 'more than brotherly' feelings for his younger sister. A fact which Alastair exploited without hesitation. Yeah, that had sucked. Dean thought that had been the worst time of his life and afterlife.

"Sam… yes, Sam… mmmm, Sam… oh, god, yes!"

Listening to the sounds of a headboard slamming against the wall while a random male voice screamed out his sister's name through the thin walls of their hotel room, Dean decided he had been wrong. This was _soooo_ much worse.

"Ooooh, Sam… god you are… ahhhhh… so good, baby!"

He laid on the couch of the shared living area of their hotel suite, waiting for his sister to finish getting fucked by her current one-night-stand in their room, wishing he could be living anywhere else. Mars? Yeah, Mars sounded good. Who needs oxygen, anyway? Clearly not that groaning guy currently fucking Sam's brains out in their room.

And he tried to shut out the sounds, closing his eyes. He thought about all the ways that he had messed everything up for himself and destroyed the most important relationship in his life. Starting at the time when Sammy died.

_"Sam!" Dean screamed, seeing his little sister through the pouring down rain._

_Sam heard her brother, and turns toward him, still clutching her arm, and nearly staggering with exhaustion. She looked up with fatigued bleary eyes._

_In relief and happiness she screamed, "Dean!"_

_Dean saw the small movement of a man about twice the size of little 5"2 Sammy. He had a knife. Dean felt like he should have seen it coming, should've been faster, and never let his precious little sister out of his sight in the first place._

_All he could say was, "Sam, look out!" as he picked up his pace._

_Too late, always too late. Jake stabbed Sam in the back, right through her spinal cord. Her body locked up and her breath caught in the back of her throat. Dean couldn't believe his eyes._

_"Noooo!"_

_Jake twisted the knife, creating a massive wound, before pulling the sleek blade out of the woman's back. He ran away. Sam, gasping, fell to her knees. While Bobby chased after Jake, Dean slid to the ground in front of Sam; h_e held her small, shaking, soaked to the bone frame_. The only thing on his mind was how to undo all of this._

_"No, Sam!" Dean said. She fell forward onto his shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sam. Sam! Hey! Hey, hey. Come here. Let me look at you."_

_He grasped her face and tried to look into her unfocused and half-lidded eyes. No luck there. He began to panic, so he placed his hand on the wound in her back, covering his entire palm in blood. His little sister's blood._

_Dean lied to Sam and himself, "Hey, look at me. It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam!" He held her, looking at her, and her head wobbled. "Hey, listen to me. We're gonna patch you up, okay? You'll be good as new. Huh? I'm gonna take care of you. I'm gonna take you care of you. I've got you. That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little sister?" He touched her cold and rain soaked face. "Sam? Sam! Sam! Sammy!"_

_Her eyes slid shut and her entire body slumped forward onto his chest. Dean panicked. A small sigh escaped her lips, all he could do was blame himself. If he had been quicker, if only he could have kicked Jake's face in before he skewered his little sister, and if only he had done his one job right. Dean was falling apart._

_"No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Oh, God. Oh, God," with tears streaming down his face, he rocked her in his arms and placed a wet and heavy kiss on her forehead. She was completely still and unresponsive, her eyes closed slowly. "SAM!"_

_Hours passed. All Dean could do was drink hard liquor and look at the dead body of his little sister. He felt numb and the alcohol didn't help with that. Even after all this time without leaving the body, he still couldn't believe that this bag of bones was his little Sammy. He was still shocked to silence at her lifeless face. He couldn't believe that just a few hours ago she was smiling, laughing, and her cheeks were flushed with color. Instead here laid an expressionless, lifeless, and pale body in her place._

_The door burst open and Bobby had a bucket of chicken, "Dean? Brought you this back."_

_"No, thanks. I'm fine," his voice was hoarse and thick._

_"You should eat something," Bobby insisted._

_"I said I'm fine."_

_Dean took another long and heavy swig from his flask. Bobby was unsure how to approach what was burning on his mind._

_"Dean… I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time… we bury Sam?"_

_"No."_

_"We could," he sighs heavily, "maybe…."_

_Dean turned on Bobby with a deadened expression on his sullen face. Bobby was a little taken aback. The kid that was like a son to him didn't look good; in fact he looked terrible._

_He voice is eerily calm, "What? Torch her corpse? Not yet."_

_"I want you to come with me."_

_He shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere."_

_Bobby pleaded with him, "Dean, please."_

_Dean looked at Bobby with sharp and blood shot eyes. He was beginning to get angry. He just wanted to be alone with his dead sister. The one person he was responsible to, forever._

_"Would you cut me some slack?"_

_"I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. I gotta admit, I could use your help," he insisted. Dean snorted and turned away from the old man. "Something big is going down— end-of-the-world big."_

_Dean yelled in his face, "Well then, let it end!"_

_Bobby was shocked. He backed up a bit since he didn't expect that kind of outburst from Dean. He could see the anger in his face and more importantly the intense grief._

_The old coot said in a hushed whisper, "You don't mean that."_

_He got in his personal space with a dead serious look on his face, "You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, you'd turn around, and get the hell out of here." Bobby stood there, shaking his head. Then seemingly out of nowhere Dean suddenly shoved him hard in the chest. "Go!" The Winchester then saw the look on Bobby's face and regretted it immediately. He said contritely, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just go."_

_Bobby sighed heavily and turned away. Dean wasn't the only one grieving, "__You know where I'll be."_

_He turned his back on Dean and left the room. Dean swallowed hard, and looked at Sam's body; a tear falls from his eye. He simply just couldn't take it any longer…._

_He began talking to her body, "You know, when we were little— and you couldn't been more than five— you just started asking questions. How come we didn't have a Mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, 'Quit asking, Sammy. Sis, you don't want to know.'_

_I just wanted you to be a kid…. Just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you… keep you safe… Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job…. I had one job…. And I screwed it up," his voice cracked, "blew it. And for that, I'm sorry," he wiped tears from his face.  
>"I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down and now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that?" tears raced down his face as he stroked her soft face. "What am I supposed to do? Sammy. God. What am I supposed to do?" he inhaled sharply and stood. His face contorted in rage as he roared. "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"<em>

_Nighttime. Impala engine revived. Headlights turned on and Dean drove recklessly, looking pale and determined. He stopped on a dirt road and inserted several items into a box, including a fake photo ID of himself. He buried the box in the middle of a crossroads and stood. Several seconds pass in silence, as Dean looked right and left._

_"Oh come on already. Show your face, you bitch!" Dean growled._

_Suddenly, a beautiful woman in a black dress appeared. Of course, Dean didn't care about that. The only thing on his mind was bringing back his precious sister._

_The demon said, "Easy sugar, you'll wake the neighbors." she flashed red eyes for a moment. "Dean. It is so, so good to see you," she inhaled deeply, "I mean it. Look at you. Gone and got your family killed, all alone in the world. It's too sweet. Excuse me, you're gonna have to give me a moment," she walked up to Dean, face to face, close. "Sometimes you gotta stop and smell the roses."_

_Dean said viciously, "I should send you straight back to hell."_

_"Oh, you should. But you won't and I know why," she teased as she circled him in a predatory fashion._

_"Oh yeah?"_

_"Yeah, following in Daddy's footsteps. You wanna make a deal. Little Sammy back from the dead, and, let me guess, you're offering up your own soul? What a lucky girl, too bad you're her brother."_

_She was incredibly accurate._

_"There are a hundred other demons who'd love to get their hands on it. And it's all yours. All you got to do is bring Sam back and give me ten years— ten years, and then you come for me," Dean said and his expression didn't change._

_Her expression was slightly appalled, "You must be joking."_

_She stopped circling._

_Dean said a little exasperated, "That's the same deal you give everybody else."_

_"You're not everybody else," she whispered in his ear with a small smear of lipstick against it. "Why would I want to give you anything? Keep your gutter soul. It's too tarnished anyway."_

_"Nine years."_

_"No."_

_"Eight."_

_She laughed evilly and seductively._

_"You keep going, I'll keep saying no."_

_Dean tried again, "Okay, five years. Five years, and my bill comes due. That's my last offer— five years or no deal."_

_She leaned __in as if for a kiss, teasing him, "Then no deal."_

_"Fine."_

_"Fine," she walked away. "Make sure you bury Sam before she starts stinking up the joint."_

_Dean flinched. He had to forget his pride unless he wanted to burry his darling little sister. The one he must protect, no matter what._

_"Wait."_

_She said softly with mild annoyance, "It's a fire sale, and everything must go."_

_The demon walked back over to him with an impassive expression._

_"What do I have to do?" Dean said._

_"First of all, quit groveling. Needy guys are such a turnoff," she sighs. "Look… look, I shouldn't be doing this. I could get in a lot of trouble. But what can I say? I got a blind spot for you, Dean. You're like a… puppy. You're just too fun to play with. That little Sammy of yours is lucky… to be with you everyday… and for you to go at such lengths to keep her alive and breathing," she sighs. "I'll do it."_

_"You'll bring her back?"_

_"I will. And because I'm such a saint, I'll give you one year, and one year only. But here's the thing. If you try and welch or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Sam drops dead. She's back to rotten meat in no time. So… it's a better deal than your Dad ever got. What do you say?"_

_That was all he needed to hear. It was the deal that ruined his life and afterlife. Without a second thought, the only one one his mind was that Sammy will be breathing, happy, laughing, and flushed in the cheeks. He grabbed the demon roughly and kissed her to seal the deal._

_In the next second Sam's eyes open wide and she sat up on the mattress, looking around, confused, and breathing heavily._

_Sam stood in front of a mirror, examining her back, wincing. There was a scar from where the knife stabbed into her spine. She was incredibly confused; even though it had closed up she could've sworn it was fatal. She was grateful, though._

_In the distance a door opened and Dean entered the room._

_"Sammy? Thank god," he said with absolute relieve._

_"Hey," she said in a normal tone of voice_

_Then the breath was knocked out of her when Dean pulled her into a tight embrace. His face was buried in the crook of her neck. He inhaled. Her hair and the nape of her neck smelled of green apple and something spicy. _

_Sam's arms hesitantly wrapped around his back since she was so thrown by this intense display of personal affection._

_"Owwww," she squeaked. "Dean… oxygen becoming an issue."_

_Dean released his sister, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, sis. I'm just… I'm just happy to see you up and around, that's all." Sam nodded, looking puzzled. Dean said wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, sit down."_

_Both of them sat._

_"Okay. Dean… what happened to me?"_

_"Well, what do you remember?"_

_He didn't want her to find about his deal. She would flip shit on him, angrily call him an idiot, and then try to revoke the deal he made. Dean couldn't allow that._

_"I-I saw you and Bobby, and… I felt this pain. This sharp pain, like… white-hot, you know, and then you started running at me, and… that's about it."_

_"Yeah, that-that kid, stabbed you in the back. You lost a lot of blood, you know…. It was pretty touch and go for awhile."_

_She was suspicious._

_"But Dean, you can't– you can't patch up a wound that bad."_

_"No, Bobby could. Who was that kid, anyway?"_

_She was slowly getting angrier, "His name's Jake. Did you get him?"_

_"No, he disappeared into the woods."_

_Her anger was overwhelming. Her face contorted in rage as she slammed her hands on the hard wood table. Dean was taken aback. He hadn't seen his little sister that angry since Josh, her Stanford boyfriend, died._

_"We got to find him, Dean. And I swear I'm gonna tear that son of a bitch apart!" Sam stood up with Dean following suit._

_Dean said, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, Van Damme. You just woke up, all right? Let's get you something to eat. Huh? You want something to eat?" She nodded sheepishly. "I'm starving. Come on."_

_N__ighttime. A cemetery gate opened and Jake entered, walking towards a crypt. Dean stood behind a large tomb, a gun in hand._

_"Hello, Jake," Sam said._

_Sam, Bobby, and Ellen appeared from the shadows, guns raised._

_Jake was absolutely shocked and Dean didn't blame him, "Wait… you were dead. I killed you."_

_"Yeah? Well next time, finish the job," Sam said viciously._

_"I did! I cut clean through your spinal cord, honey," Sam glanced with suspicion at Dean. The eldest sibling lowered his eyes briefly. "You can't be alive. You can't be."_

_Dean just couldn't look her in the eyes. He knew that hard, 'I-know-you-did-something' third degree burn stare. He was guilty. And he couldn't face that intense stare from Sam._

_Bobby attempted to make peace, "Okay, just take it real easy there, son."_

_"And if I don't?" Jake challenged._

_"Wait and see," Sam said viciously._

_"What, you a tough girl all of a sudden? What are you gonna do– kill me?"_

_She was vicious and unrelenting._

_"It's a thought," she hissed._

_"You had your chance. You couldn't."_

_"I won't make that mistake twice. You're going to drop like a brick."_

_Jake began to laugh. Dean was angry at the sound of ironic amusement. He killed his little sister; that wasn't okay whatsoever._

_"What are you smiling at, you little bitch?" Dean spat him._

_"Hey lady, do me a favor. Put that gun to your head," Jake said. Ellen shakily pointed her gun at her temple. Dean looked at them incredulously. "See that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn."_

_"Let her go," then she practically growled the next word. "Now."_

_Jake mocked her, "Oooh, you're a psychic child like me, do something about it. Shoot me."_

_"Drop the gun. Now."_

_Ellen's voice trembled, "Shoot him."_

_"You'll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off," he paused and then looked around at everyone. "Everybody, put your guns down. Except you, sweetheart." Then three guns dropped. "Okay. Thank you."_

_Jake turned around and pulled the Colt out of his pocket. While he inserted it into the crypt, Dean and Bobby grabbed Ellen before she can shoot herself just as Sam shot Jake four times in the back. Jake fell onto the ground, and Sam walked to stand over him. All Dean could do was watch in horror._

_He pleaded for mercy, "Please… don't. Please."_

_Without a drop of remorse Sam shot Jake three more times in the chest. Blood spattered onto his face. Ellen and Bobby walk past Sam, with Bobby staring at her hard. _

_Dean watched as his angry little sister dropped to her knees and began to punch him in the face. She grunted with overwhelming emotion as her fists came down hard on his face. Soon, the body began to morph: it swelled, puffed, and became even bloodier. Tears soon fell and slipped from her eyes as she continued to beat down on the man she killed. Unknown to Dean at the time, all of her frustrations poured into pounding him into an unrecognizable body. _All of it came out. T_he frustrations of dealing with the death of their Dad, dealing with being kidnapped and having to kill, and then the frustration of dying._

_"Sam! SAM!" Bobby shouted at the girl he considered as one of his own._

_She stopped. She was panting harshly and she trembled as she cried loudly. All Dean could do was back up and away from the scene…. He didn't know what to feel about that._

_Later that night Yellow Eyes took the opportunity to throw Sam against a nearby tree, "I'll get to you in a minute, hon. But I'm proud of you, darling, knew you had it in you," Dean struggled upright. Yellow Eyes threw him against a post. "Sit a spell. So, Dean… I gotta thank you. You see, demons can't resurrect people, unless a deal is made. I know, red tape– it'll make you nuts. But thanks to you, Sammy's back in rotation," he laughed maniacally in his face. "Now, I wasn't counting on that, but I'm glad. I liked her better than Jake, anyhow. Pretty, smells nice, and well trained; you got to get the fruit while it's ripe," Dean struggled, trying to attack the demon that evaded them for twenty-three years. Yellow eyes continued. "Tell me, have you ever heard the expression: 'if a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is'?"_

_"You call that deal good?"_

_Yellow Eyes continued to mock, "Well, it's a better shake than your Dad ever got. And you never wondered why? I'm surprised at you. I mean…," Yellow Eyes approached Dean to speak to him up close and personal, "you saw what your sister just did to Jake, right? That was pretty cold and brutal, wasn't it?" He chuckles darkly. "How certain are you that what you brought back, is 100%, pure, Sam?"  
>Sam gasped and looked horrified. Dean looked desperate for Yellow Eyes to stop talking about that. He didn't want his little sister to know, but of course the demon didn't relent and he laughed darkly. "You of all people should know, that's what's dead, should stay dead. Anyway… thanks a bunch. I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now, anyway. I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family."<em>

_Sammy knew. Sam knew that Dean resurrected her from the dead, but she didn't know the price he had to pay. He knew that Sam wouldn't let it be a secret for long. That would be 'acceptable' if he could keep her from welching his deal everything would be fine._

_When everything was over Dean and Sam walked over to the Impala. He opened the door for her. However, she stopped and faced him with a look of worry and concern. Dean couldn't look her in the eyes._

_"You know, when Jake saw me… it was like he saw a ghost," Dean stopped, and slammed the door to stand next to her. Sam scoffed, "I mean, hell, you heard him, Dean. He said he killed me."_

_Unknown to Dean at the time, she was hoping that Dean would come out with the truth and be honest. Unfortunately, Dean wasn't aware of that little test and tried to protect his little sister._

_"Glad he was wrong."_

_"I don't think he was, Dean," she said with a hint of annoyance. She paused before her tone softened. "What happened? After I was stabbed?"_

_"Sammy, let it go. I already told you."_

_"Not everything," she insisted._

_Dean couldn't look her in the eyes._

_"Sam, we just killed the demon. Can we celebrate for a minute?"_

_She wasn't going to let it go._

_"Did I die?"_

_Dean scoffed, "Oh, come on."_

_"Did you sell your soul for me, like Dad did for you?"_

_"Oh, come on! No!" He spoke too quickly. He wanted to smack himself on the forehead for that. Sam knew right away that he was laying. He failed her test._

_Sam gave him the third degree burn stare, "Tell me the truth." Dean sniffed and his eyes darted everywhere. She continued to stare. "Dean, tell me the truth."_

_"Sam…," Dean chuckled uncomfortably._

_Her voice cracks as she had to wipe her eyes, "How long do you get?"_

_"One year," he said. Tears flowed freely and she had to place her hands over her face. Dean felt a deep pang of pain for her. "I got one year."_

_A sob broke through her lips as she continued to cry. Her small frame shook. It pained Dean to hear it, but he didn't feel guilty whatsoever._

_"You shouldn't've done that. How could you do that?" She sobbed looking up at her brother._

_Dean saw the tears and the look of misery. He hugged her to his chest. She tried to push him since she was simultaneously pissed and sad. Dean wasn't going to have that as he rested his chin atop of her head._

_Dean said, "Don't get mad at me, Sammy, don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you; that's my job."_

_She finally pushed Dean off of her as she looked at him with a look of anger. Tears still streaked her delicate cheeks. Dean was taken aback, normally when she cried— which was rare to begin with— hugs often comforted her and calmed her down._

_"And what do you think my job is? Huh? __You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change."_

_Soon that day came, the day Dean would never forget. The day he went to hell. Of course, they were trying everything welch him out of the deal without Sam dying. He__ watched how desperate his little sister was. It broke his heart that he would do that, destroy herself to save him. He wouldn't allow it._

_"__What do you need me to do?" Sam demanded of Rodney._

_He immediately grabbed her from behind, trying to turn her. He had her by her soft face and held her close._

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He shook her slightly._

_Sam pulled loose from him with a violent shake._

_"Just shut up for a second," she growled. Then she turned to Rodney. "Rodney!"_

_He said viciously, "You had your chance, you can't just flip a switch. We needed time."_

_"Well, there's gotta be something. There's gotta be some way, whatever it is, I'll do it," Sam said pleadingly. Dean's heart thrummed hard in his chest. He __went up behind her again, grabbing her by her slim shoulders. Her words were fast and so upset, "__Don't, Dean! I'm not gonna let you go to hell, Dean!"_

_Her frame shook terribly, but her eyes stayed strong._

_"Yes, you are!" He said viciously. __They looked at each other for a beat. In a calmer and gentler tone he said. "__Yes, you are." Sam__ just stared at him, breathing hard. Dean wanted to make it all go away for his little sister. "__I'm sorry. I mean this is all my fault, I know that. But what you're doing, it's not gonna save me. It's only gonna kill you." __She looked away for a second, tears building in her eyes as she sniffed loudly. He shook her a bit to keep her focuse. "__Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you… okay?" Sam __nodded, holding her tears back. He continued and brushed the messy hair from her forehead. "__And remember what I taught you." __As tears build in his eyes he plants a long and wet kiss on her forehead._

_Then the grandfather clock chimed, it struck midnight. He looked over at it, panic evident in his face. Then he looked over at Sam, who also watched the grandfather clock. She turned her head, tears spilling down her cheeks, and looked at Dean. He looked her, a little smile on his face as he tried to keep himself calm and hold back his tears._

_Rodney said, "I'm sorry, Dean. I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy."_

_They heard the hellhounds beginning to howl and Dean's face feel as he turned around to where they heard them. Sam looked at him and then looked in the same direction understanding that something was up. There was more growling from the hellhound._

_"Hellhound."_

_"Where?"_

_"There."_

_A low, vicious growl was heard. Three heads turned and saw nothing, but knew its presence was near. Dean noticed that Sam's breath became labored and she grasped his arms, as if she didn't he would get dragged down to hell immediately._

_ Then the hellhound bounded towards the trio and they ran into the next room._

_Dean took out the bag with goofer dust as Sam and Rodney stood against the doors, holding them shut while the hellhound pounded to get in. Dean ran over and threw himself down at the floor by the door and frantically started pouring out the dust. The pounding suddenly stopped and for a second they all stood and sat still. Suddenly, Dean bolted for the window and poured out the dust on the windowsill._

_Rodney said to Sam, "Give me the knife, maybe I can fight it off."_

_Sam looks at him, a bit confused, "__What?"_

_He said desperately, "Come on! That dust won't last forever."_

_Dean turned around and looked at them from behind Sam, eyes narrowed and predatory towards the demon. After a few seconds he watched Sam take out the knife, about to hand it to Rodney._

_"Wait!"_

_Sam whirled around to look at her brother and Dean looked at her with that same hard stare._

_Rodney broke up that stare and said, "You wanna die?"_

_Realization hit Dean like a ton of bricks, "Sam, that's not Rodney. It's not Rodney!"_

_She turned back to Rodney who, without touching him, flung him hard up against the wall, pinning her. She dropped the knife and it fell to the floor. Rodney then hit Dean— without touching him— and flung him on top of the table, pinning him. Dean grunted as he held up his head so he could look at Rodney. Then he eyed his sister who looked back._

_"How long have you been in that body?" Dean asked._

_"Not long," Lilith__ looked down on her male body as she spoke. "__But I like it. It's all grown up and manly."_

_She looked up at Dean again, her eyes turned white._

_Sam asked hoarsely, "And where's Rodney?"_

_Lilith's eyes turns back to normal, "He__ was a very bad boy, so I sent him far, far away."_

_She tilted her head step by step and Dean heard her neck crunch with each tilting motion._

_"You know, I should have seen it before…, but you demons all look alike to me."_

_After a beat she snapped her head to Sam, who looked over at her. She started walking slowly towards her._

_"Hello, Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long tim," __she grabs hold of her chin, forcing Sam to face her. Against her will the male meat suit licks from her chin to her temple. The skin beneath that tongue sizzled. "__Your skin is soft."_

_Sam moved her head up and to the side, trying to get loose from her hand._

_"Right, so you have me. Let my brother go," she said as she looked__ down on her._

_"Silly goose. You wanna bargain, you have to have something that I want. You don't."_

_Dean growled. That was his little sister, no one laid a hand on her. That lick creeped him out and pissed him off simultaneously._

_"So, is this your big plan, huh? Drag me to hell, kill Sam, And then what? Become queen bitch?"_

_"I don't have to answer to puppy chow."_

_Dean was clearly in pain on the table, trying to hold himself up against her restraint. Lilith suddenly moved from Sam, as she looked at Dean, and walked over to the door while Dean followed her with his eyes. She grabs hold of the doorhandle and while looking at him exclaims:_

_"Sic 'em, boy."_

_Sam snapped her head to Dean at that and Dean looked over at her and then at the door. Lilith opened the door and the goofer dust blows away as the hellhound got him. Lilith just laughed and smiled. The hellhound tackled Dean and began to attack him full force. The pain was unimaginable. The beast grabbed him by his legs and pulled him down as he screamed. It began to rip him as Sam stood against the wall, helpless, scared and panicked._

_"No! Stop!" She screamed._

_Lilith just watched with a little smile on her face. The hound slashed Dean on his back and his shoulder causing him to howl in pain._

_"No!" He voice broke._

_He flipped over and it slashed him over his chest, blood gushing out. Sam just watched in horror as his brother was brutally slashed, bashed, and eaten._

_"No. Stop it," tears streamed down her face._

_Dean was taking his last breaths now looking at his serious distraught sister._

_"STOP IT!"_

_The blood poured out of Dean's chest and he wasn't screaming anymore, but still was not dead._

_"NO!"_

_Lilith smiled at Sam._

_"Yes."_

_She held out her hand and suddenly white light erupted from it. As it builds up Sam turned her head, eyes closed. Suddenly, her white light retracted, her eyes were still white, but slowly turned back to normal. She looked confused and shocked._

_ Sam was on the floor, huddled in a corner next to a cabinet, holding her hands up in front of her face. When she noticed nothing happened and the light was gone, she slowly took down her hands, looked up at Lilith and rose up to a standing position. The demon looked at the floor, afraid. She held out her hand and looked at Sam._

_"Back."_

_Sam took a shuddering breath and started walking towards her._

_"I said, back."_

_Sam, with a determined look on her face, bends down and picked up Rodney's knife. Lilith looked very afraid of her now, as the hunter just looked determined and hateful._

_"I don't think so."_

_She pulled back her hand, and motioned to stab her, but suddenly Lilith exited Rodney's body. The black smoke went out of her body as she screamed, Sam placed her arms in front of her face to block it out. Rodney's body collapsed like Dean's._

_ Dean wasn't moving, his eyes opened. He was dead. Sam looked down on him breathing heavily. With tears building up quickly Sam slowly walked over to Dean. She began to cry as she bent down next to him. She picked up Dean, holding his head close to her, right against her chest._

_"No… no… Dean…," she sobbed. "__Dean…."_

_Through Dean's eye everything was green and the texture was cloudy. There were chains everywhere, stretched from place to place. There was thunder and lightning and Dean screamed. He was strapped up to those chains by his arms and legs, burning his skin._

_"HELP! NO! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"_

_A hook was attached through his right shoulder, he was bloody and sweaty. There was blood in his mouth and he was completely terrified. It all began that minute._

_"SAM! __SAAAAAAAM!"_

_Years in hell went by, torture went on at the hands of Alastair. Dean held strong. It becoming difficult for _Alastair_ to find ways to break him. He has no doubt that he could, torture was his muse and bodies were his canvas. Dean Winchester was no different._

_"Sam," he mumbled. "Sam… where are you? Help me."_

_For last week and a half Dean was mumbling that. It finally dawned on Alastair that something was up with it. They were far too close. A malicious smirk spread across his face._

_"Now, I see," he cooed insultingly. "You've been having lusty naughty thoughts about your little sister, huh? Well, we'll just have to do something about that."_

_With that he began to make Dean see illusions. Torturing him in ways that not many would ever consider doing._

_In Dean's mind he saw Sam. Her face was flushed, her face smiling, and her hair was glittering in the sunlight. She was dressed girly, for once in a very long time, flowing sundress flapping in the breeze. She was beautiful. Dean saw that she was laying down next to a picnic. Food and his sister. Two of the things he loved the most, other than sex._

_"Hey, Dean, you're late," she smiled._

_Immediately, he dropped to the ground and hugged her fiercely. He heard a soft squeak escape her lips causing him to smile. He took a whiff of her green apple scented neck and hair. He, also, felt the shudder that went through her; he smirked._

_"Dean, I c-can't breath," she said._

_"Sorry."_

_He released her. She sat back and gave Dean a weird look when his hand still clasped her face. He could feel her cheek heating up beneath his hand and she couldn't look him in the eyes._

_"You're oddly affectionate. It's kind of weird but I like it," she smiled._

_Without a second thought, Dean's lips were on hers; he grabbed her by the back of her head weaving his fingers through her thick locks. Another squeak. Quickly, he devoured her soft, small lips. _

_Then his lips moved down to her neck. __Both were panting. They sounded rather excited and eventually neither of them could tell which was which since they sounded so even._

_"Dean," she sighed. "Dean." This time her voice was rather annoyed. "Stop! Now!"_

_A hard shove to his chest, caused Dean to fall backwards. He was caught off guard. He looked up and saw her eyes, they were black as midnight. Dean was shocked. _

_"What's wrong with you, Sam?!" He said sitting._

_"There's nothing wrong with me," she said coyly. __She then whipped out Rodney's knife and stabbed him in the gut. Dean fell on her shoulder in a slump, in incredible pain. "This is the real me."_

_"NOOO!"_

_He was brought back to regular rack with _Alastair's creepy face looming over him. An actual knife was in his gut. He continued to scream in pain; he knew he was breaking horribly, crumbling.__

__Years and years that went on. Sam killing him or him killing Sam. It was too much, he snapped. He let it go and said 'yes' to _Alastair. He ripped, tortured, and killed innocent souls, not caring. It levitated his pain and suffering from all those years.___

But of course, it didn't work. It didn't quell the horrible nasty feeling in Dean's gut for wanting to fuck his little sister's brains out and return his more than brotherly love. He had come back from hell to find out that Sam hadn't even thought about him in that way since she decided to indulge in all of the male population that found her seductive. Pretty much everyone. And he got to have a front row seat. Fucking _fabulous_.

**Author's Note: Should I continue?**


	2. Monster Mash

**Author's Note:**

**_|Thanking Guest Reviewers|_**

**—•Guest: Yep, I'm continuing. Don't worry about it. :—)**

**|Chapter Two— Monster Mash|**

Dean didn't look up when the gruff, smug man made his way from Sam's room to the hallway. Dean wondered if Sam even bothered to say goodbye to him, or just shoved him off her bed. She certainly didn't walk him to the door. Next time, Dean would be sure to remember NOT to leave his iPod in his bedroom. Then at least he wouldn't have to listen to it.

Watching a disheveled, clad-in-a-long-T-shirt Sam walk fluidly into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water, Dean knew he'd jump at the chance to make her his and his alone. He ached from having to watch Sam like this. And he burned with stupid jealousy when Sam let any random guy into her bed, but would barely look at Dean.

"Bitch! You know that we've got a job to do. You have the whole rest of the week to fuck in our room and I don't care. I already found other places to hang in this hick town. Can't you just hook up in _their_ rooms those days? Does it _always_ need to be here?"

Sam just smirked, "Jealous?"

Yes.

"If there are any stains on my bed, I'm throwing you out the window."

Sam just continued smirking.

Dean rolled his eyes, "I've only been back from hell for two weeks, and you've already had sex with at least six different guys. I thought you just ditched Rodney."

When Dean found out that Sam had been with Rodney all summer doing God knows what he, of course, flipped shit; Sam agreed that he needed to stop being around Rodney and his teachings of how to mystically exorcise demons. And for a brief moment, he had been hopeful that he would get his sister back. But when he had gotten back into his wheels and on the road again with her, Sam had been as distant as ever. They had saved people, hunted things, the family buisiness. But Sam had just been talking to the guys that swarmed her, smirking at their aggressive advances. Dean had had his share of admirers as well, if not as many as Sam, and he had tried to focus on them instead of his eating jealousy over his sister. And in the end, Dean felt they shouldn't have gone together in the first place. But he loved Sam and they worked well together, but his feelings were his feelings.

"Rodney and I aren't talking anymore or working together to kill Lilith. Plus, we're getting the job done, we always do. I don't see why you're so pissed off, you do it all the time with other girls. Why should I be any different?"

"So now you're making up for lost time not fucking like a damn rabbit? What the hell, Sammy?! You used to not even let guys like that hit on you. Now you practically throw them on the conveyor belt to your bed."

Sam shrugged, her face neutral, "I'm just doing what every girl does," she smirked again, "or I guess what every girl _would_ do if there was sufficient interest in her."

Dean growled as he got up and started walking over into their bedroom, "You were hot before and you didn't whore yourself out like this." Sam's eyes narrowed at that. "If you want to do something to make me happy, start taking them to their room or a different hotel room instead of here." The room still smelled of sex, so Dean went over and threw open the window. He noticed that Sam had already stripped the sheets and thrown them in the hotel's washing machine. That girl must do more laundry in a week than most guys do in a month. But Dean wasn't going to complain. At least Sam was hygienic about it. "It seems like every time I have an evening where I don't have to fight monsters, where I actually _could _get to go to sleep early or god forbid have a beer with my sister, you're here fucking someone. I thought you wanted to keep things from being so messy on the road. Or do you only fuck guys when you know I'll be here."

A funny look passed over Sam's face at Dean's last statement. She looked… embarrassed? More like she looked like he'd just been caught at something, but Dean didn't know what. She couldn't possibly be embarrassed about Dean hearing her having sex…. Sam clearly made no effort to hide that. But Dean was too tired and annoyed to try to figure it out.

"Whatever, you suck for a sister. I'm going to sleep."

Dean trudged over to his bed and fell into it. He was exhausted. He had kept up his habit of running during down time to help him manage his stress. Bobby had told him to add in some push-ups and sit-ups to help round out his workouts. Whatever you could say about the grumpy old man, and Dean could say a lot, the man knew how to keep a body in shape for hunting. So every morning, he got up and did a hundred sit-ups, a hundred push-ups, and fifty hand-stand push-ups before his morning run. Sam was generally up that early, and she clearly thought Dean was insane. Though she didn't say anything, but her expression gave it away. With hard eyes she would watch Dean working out while she drank her tea and ate her breakfast. Then Dean would go for a run, and come back and shower. He managed to time it so that Sam usually left to go find the next hunt and find another guy when Dean was out running, so that he wouldn't hear his little sister and some nameless guy banging up and down the bed.

**:: ::**

**:: ::**

Polka music played by a band that was playing in a gazebo. A man took picture of a girl in barmaid costume. What explained the oddness of it all was: 'OKTOBERFEST 2008'. Sam and Dean exited the impala, adjusted their clothes, and walked towards the festivities.

"Stupid skirt," Sam grumbled, tugging it down attempting to get the constricting pencil skirt to cover more of her legs. Dean liked it the way it was, wishing she'd leave the tight material higher up her legs.

"Hey, we still get to see the new Raiders movie."

He pointed towards the flashing sign above the movie theater. Sam regarded it neutrally.

"Saw it," she sighed.

Dean looked at her incredulously, "Without me?"

"You were in Hell," she stated stiffly.

He still gave her the same nonplussed look, "That's no excuse." Then he looked into the distance and his face lit up like a little kid's on Christmas. "Big pretzel!"

Sam smiled and shook her head; it was so like her brother to do something like that. Even after forty years— four months in regular time— in Hell Dean was still Dean at his core. Nothing would change that.

Said brother took two pretzels from vendor, "Thank you." Dean handed Sam one of his pretzels.

"Thank you," she mimicked him.

The two of them took a bite of their pretzels, walking into a bar and Dean noticed that Sam was trying to remain as distant as possible. It still caused him to burn with anger. He wished his little sister knew how that felt to be ignored in favor of the opposite sex.

Suddenly a blonde woman greeted them in German, "Guten tag."

'_Perfect,'_ Dean thought.

He smiled with his mouth full and flirted, "'Guten tag' yourself." He looked her over slowly for extra measure. Yeah, she was beautiful, but she wasn't Sam. Not by a long shot. Either way, the woman walked away while rolling her eyes.

Speaking of Sam, he glanced over at her and noticed that she wasn't paying him a lick of attention. Dean internally growled. Then he realized she was looking over at a man in a Sheriff uniform.

'_It better be strictly business, I don't know how much more of this I can take_,' Dean thought angrily.

"Looks like that's our man," she walked away from Dean. He scowled before following her, obviously frustrated that there wasn't a spark of anything from his flirtation with a pretty barmaid. He wasn't going to give up though, so he watched as Sam greeted him. "Sheriff Dietrich."

He looked Sam over, "Are you two from the fed?"

"Agents Angus and Young," she smiled. The two of them showed their badges as Dean looked at her and the sheriff with narrowed eyes. She continued to speak in an animated tone that Dean hadn't heard in a while, "we called ahead about your, uh, problem."

"Right. Um…," he looked around at the people in the filled and popular bar, nervously, "I'll tell you what, why don't we talk this out away from the crowd, huh?"

They were at the morgue. A door opened and a body was taken out, covered with a sheet. Then the sheriff drew it back. Neither of the Winchesters were squeamish, they knew the drill.

"Marissa Wright, 26. Just up from Lockhard for the 'fest. Terrible, just terrible. It's the last thing this town needs at peak tourist season."

"Definitely the last thing Marissa Wright needed," Sam said looking at her dead face.

Dean saw where Sam was looking… since primarily his focus was on her. He turned the body's head and saw two dark puncture marks on her neck like a vampire bite.

"What the hell?"

Dietrich said, "Yeah, you got me— I mean this killer's some kind of grade-A wacko, right? I mean, some Satan worshipping, Anne Rice-reading, gothic, psycho vampire wannabe."

Sam asked with a light tone, "Sheriff, in your report, you mentioned a witness."

Behind the sheriff and Sam's view, Dean rolled his eyes and mimicked his sister mockingly. He was getting tired of this crap. It wouldn't be long before he started yelling and making a scene in front of a bunch strangers.

"Yeah, I wished I didn't, but our witness insisted. That's Ed Brewer. Not exactly what you'd call reliable."

The Winchesters were at the same bar with waitresses dressed in Oktoberfest costumes. Pretty slutty and authentic. The two of them took a seat at the line of seats. The pretty barmaid from earlier came up to them; it prompted Dean to look over to Sam, who wasn't paying attention.

The woman smiled, "I remember you."

"And I remember you…," Dean looked down at her chest and read her name off the tag, "Jamie. I never forget a pretty… everything."

Dean smirked and in his peripherals he wondered if Sam payed any sort of attention. He saw brown doe eyes peak over at Jamie. Dean wondered if she was feeling the jealousy. How it felt when she was with countless guys without a care of who heard her.

"We're looking for Ed Brewer," she asked in a normal tone. Dean internally seethed.

"What do you want with Ed?"

The hunter said in a slightly more cheerful tone, "Well, we are federal agents." Sam and Dean showed their badges. She continued on, "Mr. Brewer was witness to a serious crime. We just need to—"

"Wait a minute. You're a fed? Wow, you don't come on like a fed. Seriously?"

She looked at Dean with a twinkle in her eye. Dean smirked and with a very brief glance at Sam he leaned in towards the waitress. His intentions were clear.

"I'm a maverick, ma'am, a rebel with a badge. One thing I don't play by: the rules," Dean winked.

Sam rolled her eyes, "Okay, maverick," regaining Jamie's attention she continued, "um, so where can we find Mr. Brewer?" Dean smiled, feeling like he's made a personal victory.

A little later on Dean and Sam were sitting across Ed. Dean had his arm behind the chair, where his sister was sitting. He was watching her profile and said younger sister didn't seem to notice anything except Ed.

"I told the cops everything I saw. No one believes me. Why should you be any different?"

Sam smiled that coy smile that got every single one of her one night stands into bed with her. Dean internally growled. Especially when she started to twirl the tip of her ponytail for yet another guy. If his sister pushed him any further than he'd surely snap.

"Believe me, Mr. Brewer, we're different," she reassured.

"I spoke the God's honest truth," he looked away shyly. He was under her spell. "And now I'm the town joke."

"Marissa Wright's murder is no joke to us. And we want to hear everything, no matter how strange it may seem," she batted her eyes. Dean wished she would give him those looks, those eye-bats, and that cutesy hair twirl thing. She continued on in a honey sweet tone that her brother enjoyed hearing so much, "We have a lot of experience with strange."

Ed uncapped the beer stein and drank again. It was obvious he was nervous under Sam's dark and slightly seductive gaze, frozen and trapped. Dean figured he probably would be too.

Ed began, "It was just after midnight. I just left here, and like I do every night, I cut through the park on the way home. At first, I thought it was a couple kissing. But she was… struggling too much. And this man, he was– well, he was biting her neck."

"Can you describe her assailant?"

Immediately without any sort of hesitation he said, "Oh, he was a vampire."

Dean cut in, "Okay, right. And by that, you mean—"

"You know, a vampire," he said, making a hissing fang motion.

Sam said, "So, he looked like—"

"He looked like a vampire. You know, with the fangs and the slicked back hair and the fancy cape and the little medallion thingy on the ribbon."

Sam and Dean shared a knowing look between them. This wasn't something they worked with.

"You mean like a Dracula?" She asked.

"Exactly, like a Dracula. Right down to the accent."

"What did he say?" she asked, giving him an odd look.

"You know, something like…," Ed rose his arm over his face as if he had a cape on and spoke in the infamous accent. "Stay away, mortal! The night is mine!" Then he lowered his arm as the Winchesters looked at him with an odd expression. The man said unconfidetly, "You do believe me, don't you?"

Dean felt Sam sigh against his arm. He just shook his head, he knew what his baby sister was thinking, he though it too. The guy Ed was described was a nut job vampire wanna be.

Dean stood up and walked up to the bar, 100% done with all of it.

"So you got a beer back there for me?" he flirted, knowing that Sam was looking at him.

Jamie teased, "I don't know, Agent Young, you off duty?"

He looked briefly at Sam and she quickly looked away.

"And then some."

He left her at the bar and sat next to Sam with a slight smirk. He put an arm at the back of her chair. He spread out feeling like his jealousy plan and idea was working. He knew Sam like the back of his hand, so he could tell when she wasn't particularly happy about something.

"So, what do you think? Goth, psycho, vampire wannabe, right?" He said with a smirk still on his face as he looked over at her.

She grumbled and shimmied her skirt farther down her legs, obviously uncomfortable with how it rode up, "Stupid skirt." Dean smirked wishing she wouldn't correct her skirt, he liked her smooth thin tan skin. He wanted to run his hands over those legs, feel the skin there, move towards her inner thigh, make way to her—

Sam sighed and spoke once more, "Definitely not our kind of case. I say we leave."

"Agreed. But who cares? Room's paid for, and it's Oktoberfest. Come on, sis, beer and bar wenches. Let's stay awhile."

"I like dicks, thanks," she said with a bite to her tone. Then she said tinsy bit of playfulness, "Pretty sure women today don't react well to the whole 'wench' thing, Dean. You know, I've got insider perspective. Being a girl and all."

Au contraire mon sœur.

Dean called out to Jamie, "Hey, bar wench, where's that beer?!"

"Coming up, good sir!" she called back authentically.

Sam just rolled her eyes. She wasn't impressed whatsoever, some girls didn't have any self-respect or possibly in her case it was simply her job. Either way, Sam didn't care.

"Oktoberfest, babe."

She gave him a weird look. Did he just call her 'babe'? Dean realized his little slip-up, but tried to ignore it like it was something he always said to her. Not something he said to girls he wanted to bone.

Before Sam could question him on it, Lucy said, "There you go," and set their drinks down. She turned to Sam with a smile, "What can I get you?"

She looked at the menu and one of the choices caused her face to light up, "Oooh, I'll have a Scotch on the rocks. Thanks."

Lucy gave her one last smile, "Sure thing," and then she left.

Dean sighed loudly and flexed his arm around Sam, careful not brush. He already slipped up today. He didn't to royally freak her out and cause some kind of a fight. It would be a mess. No one wanted that.

"Oh, Sammy, it's time to right some wrongs," he sighed loudly.

Sam quirked an eyebrow at him, "Come again?"

Dean smirked wishing he could pull her close into his chest and tell her his little tale and have her _help_ him with it, "Look at me. I mean, I came back from the furnace without any of my old scars, right? No bullet wounds, knife cuts, none of the off-angled fingers from all the breaks. I mean, my hide is as smooth as a baby's bottom. Which leads me to conclude, sadly… that my virginity is intact." He truly believed that and wanted Sammy to be the one to take his V-card. Though, he knew that wouldn't end well if she wasn't interested. That was the most likely outcome.

"What?" Sam said incredulously.

"I have been re-hymenated," he said playfully and then gave her shoulders a playful squeeze.

"Re-?" Sam laughed uncomfortably. "Oh please. Dean, maybe angels can pull you out of hell, but no one could do that."

It was a ridiculous notion. Dean and his virginity? As if. Maybe his body had been restored and brought to be how it was intended to be at that particular age. But his virginity? It was so ridiculous that Sam snorted and laughed lightly once more.

"Hey, don't laugh, I've been re-hymenated. And the dude will not abide."

"All right, _dude_. Well, you go do whatever you got to do," she rolled her eyes and got up, "and I'm gonna go back to the room and get some sleep. See ya."

Sam left and Dean's eyes traveled up and down her retreating form. He hated for her to leave, but loved to watch her go.

The next day Sam and Dean sat across from Anna-Marie at an outside table. The two thought the Dracula nonsense was the only issue. I guess they were wrong. There was more monster madness going on.

The person they were currently talking to, Anna-Marie, slurped loudly from a large cup. She didn't seem miserable at all considering what happened. So the Winchesters exchanged a look.

"And then it just– it just tore Rick into little pieces."

"Ma'am, we understand how hard this is, but can you describe the creature?" Sam said sympathetically, faking it completely.

"Oh. It was a werewolf."

Sam and Dean looked at each other briefly with a knowing glance.

"A werewolf?" Sam questioned.

"Mhm."

"You're sure?" Sam said slowly.

"Oh, yeah. With the furry face, and the black nose, and the claws and… and the the torn up pants and shirt. Like from the old movies."

"Well, okay, so…. Thank you for your time," Dean said and grasped Sam's arm. He pulled her up; she scowled at him and elbowed him off. She walked ahead of him, wanting some space, from what Dean could see. Oh well, he'll just get a lovely view of her backside.

The Winchesters were back in the morgue. The new mangled body was absolutely disgusting and smelled like the decaying anus of a deceased homeless man. _Appetizing_. The two of them had to keep from gagging.

Dean said, "First a Dracula and now a full on movie time Wolf-man? What the hell is going on in this town?"

"Obviously, this wasn't a psycho wannabe," she said, thoroughly repulsed. Sam pulled out some shredded flesh from the corpse with a pencil. "Look at those bite marks. Right down to the bone… and deeper." She then dropped it back into the body with a disgusted look on her face.

Dean didn't blame her. He had to look away and keep from puking up his double bacon cheese burger right there. It wasn't like he smelt a cut up dead body before. It was just some of the ripe ones get you.

"Strong enough to tear a healthy man apart limb from limb. Could be a werewolf."

"Yeah, except, look, the heart's still there in one piece. They never leave the heart behind," Sam said, looking at the perfectly intact heart.

"Thus I reiterate: what the hell is going on?!"

A loud creaking metal door swung open, startling the Winchesters. They looked over and saw it was the sheriff.

"Well, I was hoping you kids could tell me," he sighed, peering down at the corpse. "I just got a rush job back from the lab on those fibers we found on the body." He pulled out a plastic bag from an envelope. "Canine. Wolf hairs."

"I'm getting a headache," Dean said as he ran a hand down his face.

Around 7:00 the two of them were at the bar again. Sam was eating a Caesar salad and Dean was chowing down rather messily on his double baconator. She gave him a rather incredulously look at his excessively poor manners.

"What?" he said through a mouthful looking innocent.

She shook her head and said dully, "Nothing."

Dean shrugged and continued to eat like a pig. It wasn't as if Sam hadn't seen bad etiquette before, she grew up around guys her whole life. Dean thought she was simply being a little princess about it, like almost all the time these days.

"You know it looks like we've stumbled onto a midnight showing of 'Dracula meets Wolf-man.' Is that it?"

She finished her last bite and leaned back. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked nonplussed per usual. "I don't know. I mean, Wolf-man seems real enough. Makes Dracula seem a little less impossible, I guess. So, why not?"

Accidentally— totally on purpose— Dean brushed his foot against Sam's foot. Very briefly. He wanted to gauge her reaction at that gesture of mild flirtation. Plus, he wanted to feel her smooth pretty skin. But alas Sam didn't seem to notice.

Dean masked his slight annoyance, "Yeah, but werewolves don't grow wolf hair. That's just a myth."

"Yeah," Sam cleared her throat as she looked away uncomfortably.

"So, what? We've got a vampire and a werewolf monster mashing this town?"

When Dean tried to regain Sam's pretty almond-shaped milk chocolate brown eyes, Jamie interrupted by bringing over another round of beers for the Winchesters.

"Looks like you guys are staying a while. I heard about Rick Deacon."

Dean said, "Yeah, this case just got weird enough for our department."

"Well, beers are on me," she smiled.

Dean gave her his most charming smile/smirk. Just as his long sock clad foot brushed Sam's soft leg repeatedly and wanted Sam's attention solely on him and Jamie. He wanted her to have a taste of her own medicine.

"So, how about tonight? Are you free?"

Jamie laughed drily, "I don't like men who love other women. I have more self-respect than that."

Then Jamie left.

Dean was taken aback. It was that obvious that he was in love with Sam and wanted to fuck her brains out? He just hoped Sam didn't know for fear of her freaking out and never seeing him again. Yeah, that would be bad. Then he felt a light kick to his foot, pushing his stroking foot away from her calf. Yep, so bad.

He looked at Sam. She was laughing at him with a genuine smile on her face and glee in her eyes. It just made him feel incredibly embarrassed, but relieved that she clearly didn't have a clue that she was the 'other woman.'

"You? In love?" she giggled loudly.

If only it was a joke.

**:: ::**

**:: ::**

Later on that evening Sam and Dean were at a museum. Another strange attack occurred at a specific exhibit. It seemed some freak was modeling after yet another monster movie character: this one happened to be a mummy.

Sam's head popped out from behind the big item, "This sarcophagus isn't ancient." She held up a tag that read, 'THE FX SHOP PROPHOUSE PHILDADELPHIA, PA.' She sighed, "It's from a prop house in Philly."

"Well… it goes well with the bucket of dry ice he was keeping in it," Dean sighed, pulling out a small smoking little pale.

"Is he making his own special effects?" She sighed leaning her torso up against the sarcophagus.

Dean couldn't help it, his eyes became drawn to her cleavage. It revealed itself in that particular position and it was becoming difficult for him to control himself. Dean blinked back up to her face forcibly, swallowing uncomfortably.

"Yeah, a mummy with a good sense of showmanship," Dean said, running a hand down his face.

"This is stupid," she sighed.

"I know it is, but hey at least he's got good taste," he said, stealing another glance at her chest and picturing naughty dirty things.

Sam yawned. She straightened up and put a hand over her mouth to stifle said yawn. She stretched before walking towards the exit.

"Well, I'm exhausted, I'm going to get some sleep. Are you good with…," she gestured the sarcophagus and dry ice, "all this?"

"Yeah, get some sleep, little sis."

Sam left the museum and began to walk away with her arms crossed over her chest. It was a bit cold. Her mind began to wander on what a weird case she and her brother were on. Nothing seemed to add up.

Suddenly, she heard something behind her. She turned around and saw Dracula.

"Good evening."

"You know being stalked isn't a really big turn on for girls," she said, unimpressed.

He pulled up his cape and said, "I have watched you for many nights from afar. My passion knows no bounds, Mina! You are the reincarnation of my beloved, and I must _have_ you."

Sam attempted to kick him in the face, but the restricting pencil skirt stopped her. She looked down with a pout. "Stupid skirt."

Immediately, she took off running and Dracula began to chase her. She ended up stopping right in front of a gate. She looked down around her feet before Dracula could round the corner. She found a rock and picked it up, an idea came to mind.

"There you are my lovely bri—" Two things occurred to cut him off mid-sentence: one, Sam cut the pencil skirt with the rock she had, two, she kicked Dracula in the jaw. "Son of a…."

Out of reflex he tried to punch her in the face, but she caught his fist in her hand. He tried with his other fist, the result was the same. Then she pulled him closer by spreading his arms apart; then Sam kneed Dracula in the stomach. He spat up blood. Then Sam punched him right across the jaw. He fell over on the asphalt.

"Mina, you are mine. Why must you resist?"

He then got up and pinned her up against the wall, moving into her personal space. His intention was her neck. Sam wasn't finished and she wasn't about to have Mister Creepy bite her like a sissy, so she ripped off Dracula's ear.

He wailed in pain and collapsed to the floor.

"Eww," she said dramatically before looking at the appendage.

He fled and Sam pursued. Dracula leapt over a gate and escaped on a moped. Sam blinked at him in confusion and disbelief; it was too weird.

So Sam began to walk towards the hotel. She walked slowly since her feet hurt since she broke her heels. She kicked rocks away, feeling all kinds of weird. She just took on Dracula, tore off his ear, then he escaped on a moped. What kind of fuckery was that?

Suddenly, a woman's voice addressed her, "Hey, are you alright?" It was Jamie.

Sam said, "I'm fine, I guess."

Jamie just smiled in a friendly manner knowing that defensive attitude when someone is just scared on the inside, "Come on, let's get you a drink."

The two girls were talking casually when Dean entered the bar looking worried. Jamie kept the giggle in the back of her throat since that stopped their talking. The concern on his face was endearing and funny at the same time.

"Sam, are you alright?" he asked, looking her over with a worried glance.

"Yeah, I think so. And I think I know what's going on."

Sam put a folded towel on the table.

"Yeah?" Dean said, giving her a weird look and eyeing Jamie suspiciously, wondering if she knew about what the Winchesters truly do.

"Yeah, I got a souvenir from the Count himself."

Dean opened the towel and both Jamie and Dean looked at it in disgust.

"An ear?"

"Ripped it off of Dracula's head. Touch it," she said, giving Dean a look that said she was serious.

Dean touched the ear. He recoiled from the gross sticky texture.

"Skin of a shapeshifter. Just like St. Louis and just like Milwaukee. Oh, and, uh…,"she pulled out a medallion from her pocket and dropped in front of Dean. "This, I uh, pulled it off during the fight. Look at the label on the ribbon."

Dean looked at the label. It read: 'THE FX SHOP PROPHOUSE PHILADELPHIA, PA.' He said, "It's a costume rental."

Neither of Sam or Dean really paid attention to Jamie, who was freaking out quite a bit. Monsters, ears, and costume rentals? She thought they were crazy, insane even. She began to slide away from the two of them….

Sam continued on like nothing was happening on her left, "All three monsters— Dracula, Wolf-man, and the mummy— all the same guy, which means we need to catch this freak before he starts killing again."

"Okay, you guys seem pretty… um… crazy. I'll just… be leaving now," with that she evacuated the vicinity.

Sam rolled her eyes and scooted over so that Dean could sit next to her on the booth. She was clearly distant with him, but that didn't stop him from putting an arm behind her booth and leering at her. Especially the tear in her skirt.

"Okay," Sam said slowly, "so, the stagecraft, the costuming… it's like he's trying to re-enact his favorite monster movie moments, right down to the bloody murders. He even called me Mina."

Dean questioned, "Mina?"

"Yeah. That's what he called me."

Dean looked Sam over possessively. He was sick and tired of all the dudes, monster or humans, falling for his girl. Well, she wasn't his exactly, but he could dream. Couldn't he? Besides, it was normal for any sort of brother to be protective of their sister and want to kick any guy's ass that tried to date or do her. Well, in Dean's case it was out of intense jealousy and wanting to be the only one to do the same thing.

"Mina? They're characters from the movies: Mina, Dracula's intended bride. Seems like he's fixating on you, like he sees you as _his bride_," he growled on the last two words.

"Wow. Lucky me," she said sarcastically.

"Sam, has anybody taken specific notice of you? Like obsessive notice?"

She thought on it. The only person she thought she saw frequently was her brother Dean and that was it. And Dean isn't a shifter, by far. She would know by now and their Dad would have definitely ganked him without a second thought.

"No one I can think of," she said sleepily.

She was exhausted. She was up late tonight, she fought a grade-A wacko. It had been a long day. Her head lolled and she ended up resting it on Dean's shoulder. He watched her doze off and he watched her relaxed pretty face. His hand that wasn't closing around her shoulder, went to brush the loose tresses of hair.

Dean was about to kiss her forehead when someone interrupted him. Lucy turned on the lights. Sam began to wake up and Dean quickly backed off from her, angered. Little Miss Lucy just cock-blocked him.

"Holy crap. Oh, my god, Sam. Guys, I'm-I'm sorry. I thought Jamie locked this place up."

"Lucy, it's-it's okay. Uh, listen, Lucy, right? It's fine don't worry about it," she said rubbing her face sleepily.

"You know what? I just… I came to borrow a bottle. I kind of got something going back at my…. Anyway, uh, you guys look really busy, so I'm just gonna get out of your hair."

Dean was down with that. He wanted his sister to sleep on him again, but preferably he wanted to sleep _with her_ instead. But, bottom line he wanted Lucy out of there and not to interrupt his Sammy time.

"No, seriously, Lucy," Sam said, not wanting to be alone with Dean, "it's been a crazy night. Stay for a drink."

"Yeah. Stay for a drink," Dean said sarcastically.

Time passed, they were talking it up. Well, mostly Sam was talking and Dean was somewhat glaring, feeling possessive per usual, but talking was being had. He just wanted to be alone with his little sis.

"Oh, that sounds awful. Sam, honey, are you okay?"

"Oh, I am fine," she hiccuped and then giggled lightly. "I beat that son of a," hiccup, "bitch. I even took an ear."

"So, Sam, are you like a black belt or what?"

Sam's eyes swam and her head lolled and swayed. Dean looked over and saw two of Sam. His hand subconsciously reached out to steady himself. He ended up brushing her face. He kept his hand on her face.

"Stop it, Dean," she giggled, giving him a playful shove. It ended up knocking him to the floor, unconscious. "Oops," she smiled as she swayed.

"Well, I guess they train you to fight at the academy or whatever," Lucy said ignoring the fact that those two were obviously not well.

Suddenly without warning or any sort of provocation Sam frowned and flipped the table over to hit Lucy. It knocked her off the booth. Suddenly, Sam was on her feet; she swayed shakily and placed her hands on the cushions before her. A wild look was across her face.

"It's you, isn't it?" She growled.

Lucy pushed her jaw back into place. Sam kicked her in the face to put out of alignment again, but it was a little too much for her. She fell over dizzily. She panted harshly, trying to steady herself.

"Oh, damn it! What did you put in our drinks?!" She hissed.

She attempted to stand once more, but she slipped. Then she tried again, but that was the last one. She passed out.

"And… scene."

In a dungeon, Dean was unconscious and strapped to an upright table wearing lederhosen. He slowly came around. He looked down at himself and wasn't happy with what he saw. It was downright embarrassing.

"Oh, come on!"

Dean looked at a portrait of a woman's face on the wall which resembled Lucy.

Dracula said, "She is beautiful, no? Bride number three from the first film. She never got the acclaim that she deserved. Which is why I chose her shape, her form, to move among the mortals unnoticed. To listen to the cricket songs of the living. That is when I discovered my bride had been reborn in this century."

"I can't get over what a pumpkin-pie-eyed, crazy son of a bitch you really are. You're not Dracula! And my sister, Sam, is not your bride! You get that, right? Or even if you think you are Dracula, what the hell's up with the mummy?!"

Dracula punched Dean in the face.

He said, "I am all monsters!"

"Life ain't a movie, you sorry sack of—"

Dracula punched Dean again.

"Life is small. Meagre. Messy. The movies are grand, simple, elegant. I have chosen elegance."

Dean scoffed, "You think 'elegance' is really the word for what you did to Marissa, or Rick Deacon, or any of the others?!"

"But of course. It is a monster movie, after all."

Dean couldn't believe any of it whatsoever.

"You do realize what happens at the end of every monster movie?"

"Ah, but this movie is mine. And in it, the monster wins. The monster gets the girl and the hero, he's… electrocuted. And tonight, Jonathan Harker, you will be my hero."

Dracula put his hand on a large lever on the wall, ready to deep fry him. Dean chuckled nervously. He didn't want to die, who did?

"W-w-wait, wait, wait."

Dean struggled, wriggling all around trying to break free. Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Please, excuse me," Dracula said.

Then later on that night, Sam woke up in an elaborate bedroom. She looked around and sat up wondering why she was there. She didn't do anybody that was particularly rich. But then her eyes narrowed at Dracula standing before her.

"You wake," he gestured to a white satin dress hanging by the bed. "The gown, it suits your beauty. Please, put it on."

She sighed and looked around some more, "Where am I? What have you done with Dean?"

"Harker is resting elsewhere. Please, put on the gown and you may dine. We are having pizza."

She stood up and glared at him. Hey eyes were piercing and she wasn't in the mood to play around. She was tired, cranky, and needed to get her brother back. Which ever room he was in the giant house, she had to find him.

"What?! What the hell's wrong with you?! You made up Lucy, right? Pretended to be nice and normal, fooling us all."

"I needed to know if you were the one."

"You could try talking to people! But instead you become this?"

She got up in his face and her eyes were cold and hard. It caused Dracula to look away for brief moments. Sam was a pistol, someone you didn't want to mess with.

Still Dracula insisted, "The gown."

"I don't want to play your stupid game, okay?! I just-I just want to go to my hotel and sleep for about… I don't know… eight hours."

He yelled in her face, "PUT ON THE GOWN!"

"No," she said, pulling away.

She went over to the gown and ripped it. She threw it down on the floor and began to stomping it with her heel. Dracula's eyes widened, largely.

"Stop it!"

He attempted to grab her and stop her, but Sam elbowed him in the gut. Cranky Sam was Crazy Sam. Dracula fell into his seat and looked at her a little incredulously. He had a little skirmish with her before, but he didn't expect her to act like this.

Sam gave him a look with her lip curled before she took a slice of pizza. She bit into it and sat down on one of the chairs. When she was cranky she was hungry as well.

He tried amending the issue rather shakily, "I-I pissed you off, you're the only one I don't want to piss off. I used to love the movies."

"They aren't real. You can't make them real," she said taking another bite.

"'Real' is being born this way. Different. 'Real' is having your dad call you 'monster'— it's the first time you hear the word. And he tries to beat you to death with a shovel. Everywhere I ran, everywhere I tried to hide, people found me, dragged me out, attacked me. Called me 'freak,' called me 'monster.' Then I found them, the great monsters. In their movies, they were strong. They were feared. They were beautiful. And now I am like them. Commanding. Terrifying."

He stood up and tried to assert his dominance over her. She was nonplussed. Her whole life guys have tried to control her, make her do what a good sister or daughter would do. However, she was rebellious and had a strong sense of self.

"Lonely," she sighed, taking another bite, "is more like it."

"Was lonely. Now I-I have you," he touched her face, she glared.

"Ever think that maybe you're lonely because you kill people?"

"Or I kill people because I'm lonely."

In the next room, something knocked over alerting both Dracula and Sam. They both looked over in that direction.

"Did you hear that?"

"Dean are you there?! Where are you?!"

Dracula attempted to swipe her across the face, but Sam grabbed his arm. Dropping her pizza in the process. She had the elbow up towards her then she used her own elbow and broke his arm.

"RAGGGHHH!" He cried out loudly in pain.

She rushed out of the room. She ran down the stairs and came to a stumbling stop. Dean was still trapped and Sam looked around to find him.

"Oh, thank God, just in the nick of time. That guy was about to Frankenstein me."

Sam pulled out a folded up switch blade she kept in her bra. She began to cut the multiple belts that strapped him down.

She teased him, "Hey there, Hansel."

"Shut up!" Dean said, pulling free.

Suddenly, Dracula entered the room. Dean instantly stood before Sam, very protectively and possessively. The tops of Sam's eyes scowled heavily at Dracula, wanting to do more than break his arm.

"You, Harker, trying to steal my precious Mina! Now you die,"

"How 'bout now you shut the hell up?"

Dean charged after him and was thrown to the ground, he rose his arms, about to go in for the kill. Suddenly, he was shot in the chest, five times.

"Silver?" He said shakily. He turned to see Sam holding the gun. She wasn't amused, angry even. "It was beauty that killed the beast. No, Mina, do not weep." She wasn't even close to weeping. Dracula then fell into a chair. "Perhaps this is how the movie should end." He drifted off into the chair, dying slowly.

**:: ::**

**:: ::**

The Winchesters were walking the town. They were happy to be out of their 'monkey suits'. They were in their normal clothes which consisted of jeans, a t-shirt, and an open-buttoned plad shirt. Dean wrapped an arm around Sam causally. She ignored it since they were having a pretty decent conversation that didn't revolve around monsters.

"I… waited up for you last night. I thought we'd hang out. Kinda like we used to."

Dean felt hope surge up in his chest. Even if Sam didn't like him in _that _way, he would be happy to just have his sister back at this point. It might be pathetic and painful, but he had missed their friendship more than he had thought possible.

"Sorry. I didn't think you even wanted to. I mean, you _never_ really want to anymore. You haven't really talked to me since…," Dean's voice trailed off. This was not a good time to bring up his time in hell. They had never talked about it, and his brain was scattered right now. But there was no avoiding it. Sam was here, being his sister. They had to address it, and hopefully they could get past it. This was the first chance they had really had. He wasn't going to miss it.

"Sam, I'm really sorry for all that you went through when I went to hell. I'm sorry that you felt the need to seek comfort with… Rodney, and I had to… um, kick him out," Dean paused, then took a breath, forcing the words out. "I did that because I just-I just really missed you. I still miss you. I miss being siblings."

Sam stilled. Dean was hitting close to home and he could see it in her face. But he had to keep going.

"I miss you, too," she said quietly.

"So can't we… can't we just forget that all of that ever happened? I didn't mean to make this happen. It's just, when I miss you like this, I suddenly feel," Dean paused, not wanting to sound like he was making a confession at the same time he was trying to convince Sam he was happy to be 'just siblings'. He noticed an embarrassed flush creeping up Sam's cheeks, and quickly tried to push through his words to get this awkward conversation over with. "Anyway, I felt something I didn't expect that day and in my time in hell, and because of that…. Look, I know that you… feel differently about me now. But I will try to forget what I realized in my time in hell and the day I kicked Rodney out. I will try to just forget all of it. Can you just forget about it too, and just… just go back to being normal with me? Brother and sister, like we used to be?"

Dean was surprised when Sam's face flashed hurt, then slowly hardened with anger.

"So that's what you think, huh? I'm not 'normal' anymore?!"

"Well… no, I mean… Sam you're joking right? I mean, ever since I got back from hell—"

"Fuck you, Dean," Sam stormed off, fury clear in every line of her body.

"What the hell, Sammy? Why are you so pissed off?"

"This isn't something that I can just change back to 'normal' on, ok? It doesn't work that way. How ignorant are you? All your big talk about being sibling solidarity no matter what was just total shit. You have made that_ crystal _fucking clear! You're such an asshole, Dean!" She walked towards the road, jutted her thumb up, and waited. It didn't take long for a trucker to stop.

"Where're you headin'?" He asked.

"I don't care," she said. "Just take me far far away."

**Author's Note: Please be sure to review :—D**


	3. Three Stories: Yours, Mine, the Truth

**|Chapter Three— Three Stories: Yours, Mine, the Truth|**

Sam pulled into the lot of Bobby's house. She felt severely uneasy. The last time she was here there weren't any issues between her and brother. Sam missed those days. She missed coming here as a child with Dean when John was out of town hunting something and didn't want to involve his kids. Especially not his precious little Sammy. The siblings would hang out with Bobby and he'd teach them some more things about hunting, and occasionally take them some place fun to unwind. But of course that angered John since Bobby clearly out shone him in fatherhood.

Sam wasn't surprised when the front door opened before she even reached it. Bobby stood there, leaning against the frame of the door watching Sam walk up the path to the house.

"Sam," Bobby said simply, greeting the girl that he considered a daughter, his usually surly expression showing concern. Rarely did Sam and Dean fight so much that she would risk her safety on the highway and taking rides from strangers. So, Bobby knew something wasn't right. Rarely, did they talk about their feelings, Bobby was a reserved old man. But that was alright for Sam, they didn't need to. They hunted together, drank beer afterwards, and asked about what kind of monster they fought next. It was a strong bond they shared.

When Sam had called out of the blue asking to come back for the weekend and possibly longer, Bobby had known something had happened. But he would let Sam tell him when she was ready. He looked at Sam with a curious look when he saw that she had come to his home without even a small overnight bag. Clearly her exodus had been unplanned, and Bobby's concern deepened. There were few things that could actually shake Sam Winchester.

"Bobby," Sam said, her tone sounding regal, her milk brown eyes showing relief.

"Come on, I got some beer."

They walked through the small, shabby porch through a short hall that led to a kitchen and a small wooden table. The house was warm, homy, and down-to-Earth, matching the man it belonged to. "We can either hash this out right at this table or you can just go to bed."

Sam knew Bobby was offering the choice to let her set the pace for when she wanted to talk about whatever had driven her here. And she appreciated it. Bobby usually did not offer choices. He simply swept all before him along whatever path his fearsome stubborness had deemed was the correct one. When he killed his wife, Karen, Bobby had simultaneously hunted alongside Rufus, assumed the responsibility of taking care of his hunter buddies by providing them information, and pretty took care of the Winchesters when John died. Any one of those tasks would have been a full time commitment for a normal person, but Bobby had managed all three, excelling in an almost super-human capacity at each despite the speed bumps. There was a reason that he typically did not bother offering choices or seeking opinions of mere _mortals_. The Winchesters were one of the few exceptions.

Sam nodded, acknowledging the unusual courtesy. She needed time to gather her thoughts. Talking with Bobby was always… like undergoing brain surgery without anesthetics. The man was ruthless about probing with laser precision into exactly what was wrong, seeing to the heart of the problem with almost frightening accuracy, and addressing it in the most crotchety way, regardless of the difficulty of doing so. There would be no 'hiding part of the story' from Bobby. And though Sam had sought out his company, she needed just a bit more time to brace herself for the consequences.

"Can I get some food actually? I'm starving. I haven't eaten at all today."

Bobby accepted that. He grunted and jutted his head towards the fridge. Sam pulled out some ham, cheese, lettuce, and mayo, preparing to make herself a sandwich. Bobby sat across from her as she slowly ate her ham sandwhich, piecing her thoughts together, trying to prolong the inevitable. Soon, Bobby's patience was running thin and got himself a beer. He handed one to Sam. She accepted the bottle and drank down the burning liquid.

Bobby sighed, "Just start at the beginning." Neither one of them were partial to small talk.

Sam paused, her face blushing. Then she looked away when she spoke truthfully, "You mean the beginning where I knew that I started to… be interested… in Dean, or the beginning when he found out about it?"

A bit of mild shock glittered his features. Then his raised eyebrows relaxed, sighed, wiped his face slowly. He wasn't shocked any longer. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The siblings spent all their time together, they would do anything for each other, and they fairly good looking to boot.

"Wherever you think you need to start, so I understand what the hell's going on with you and Dean."

"I've liked Dean as more than a brother for… quite some time. But he was clearly interested in other girls. Especially that girl Jamie," Sam heard the jealous twist in her voice when she said _her_ name, and schooled herself to drop it and forget about it for now.

Bobby gave her a look, waiting for Sam to continue. Obviously, this was not new news to Bobby, about the hooking up with girls part anyway.

"But last summer, when Dean went to hell and left me alone… I discovered some things. Then when he came back I was so happy. Of course I thought it was too good to be true, so I, you know, attacked him, tried to make sure he wasn't something nasty like a demon or a shape shifter. The works. Then after those tests were done, he hugged me. Hard. I could feel his lips at my neck, him inhaling my hair… I could of sworn it was on purpose," Sam felt her stomach tighten at the memory of that day. She thought perhaps that her desires to be with Dean would come true, but it was shattered into a million pieces.

Bobby's eyebrows shot up at that, "Dean's attracted to you?"

Sam laughed bitterly, "No. At first, I was hoping… but, no. I asked him what that was all about, but he stated very clearly that he was just so elated that he couldn't help hugging _his little sister_, everything was platonic. He just 'missed his little sister so terroribly,' and said that 'I would do the same.'"

Bobby tried to keep the mild sympathy from his eyes, knowing it wouldn't be appreciated.

"I told him to get bent and to get out of my sight. We were sitting on my fucking bed, and the guy I have been attracted to for quite some time got really mad… like I thought he was going to hulk out he was so mad," Sam trailed off, recalling the moment and swallowing hard. "He ended up pinning me down, all pressed up on me and…."

Bobby's eyebrows rose. He waited for Sam to continue, and when she didn't, Bobby gave her a gentle nudge. "And?"

"And it was… exhilarating," Sam admitted softly. Then her voice cooled again. "A little too exhilarating, if you know what I mean. I panicked, thinking he knew right away. I kneed him in the gut and pushed him off the bed then left the room, hoping he didn't notice that I…."

Bobby smirked, amused, "That good, huh? Was he actually touching you or just close to you?"

Sam narrowed her eyes, embarrassed that Bobby had known exactly what she was trying to say, but also glad she didn't have to completely spell it out. "Touching."

"Well, then hopefully your _reaction_ wasn't too noticeable."

"No, he noticed. He told me— while looking so uncomfortable that he could hardly get the words out— that he had… 'felt something he hadn't expected'… when 'missing me' a.k.a. hugging me/pinning me and knew how I felt about him now. Then he asked if I could just be _normal_. Because being in love with your sibling is just not normal, right? To him, I'm some deviant now. So he just asked if I could just forget it ever happened and go back to thinking about him as just a brother. Like its some fucking switch I can just turn off. It's wrong, I know it. But after all that bullshit about 'accepting me no matter what,'" Sam realized she was talking more to herself now than Bobby, and forced herself to stop.

Bobby moved over and sat by the girl he considered his daughter on the sofa, "Normally, people would say that it's wrong to be in love with your brother. But what do you want me to do, Sam? Yell at you and tell you that it's wrong and it's disgusting? I could. But as your friend and someone like a father to you, I have to say you can like whoever you want to."

"I know. I just never thought he would say _that_ to me… that I was _abnormal _for my feelings for him. Even if I am. I get that he didn't feel the same. I can't help it that I like Dean, and he can't help it that he doesn't like me. I wasn't trying to push it with him. In fact, I avoided him, I tried to keep myself as distant as possible for fear of doing something monumentally stupid that would freak him out."

Bobby looked at Sam, a little saddened for her, "I guess when you find out your little sister has a thing for you, you tend get a little defensive," Bobby said softly. "Dean can't help who he is and isn't attracted to any more than you can help your attractions." Bobby believed, however, that Dean was not as platonic about Sam as she thought… he had seen the eldest Winchester looking at Sam with a longing that spoke of more than siblinghood, though whether the Dean was self-aware enough to realize that or not was another matter entirely. But Bobby knew that now was not the time to try to talk to Sam about it. She was hurting and needing to talk about what had happened before she'd be open to hearing about other possible perspectives. So Bobby let Sam continue for the time being.

Sam sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes, "I know. I know that. Which is why I was trying so hard to not show him how I really felt. Even if we could never be more than just siblings, his brotherly love was enough."

Bobby frowned slightly at the blatant lie, "You've skipped several steps in your story. Let's go back to what happened after the day he pinned you. You just found out that he noticed your… little attraction. Which means that you didn't know that at the time, but your siblinghood was falling apart before today. What happened after that day?"

"I guess neither of us handled it well. I pushed Dean away and ended the whole ordeal. He landed on the floor looking… embarrassed and shocked and somewhat horrified. I knew he had noticed something. I didn't know what to do, so I just went down to the hotel lobby until I had everything under control, trying to think of what I could say. But before I even had the chance, he grabbed his things and left, saying he had to take a drive and clear his head. In other words he just wanted to get the hell away from me. From his _sister_ who was hot for him.

"And it just got worse the next day when looking for a job. Every time he even looked at me, he got all uncomfortable and embarrassed. In the hotel room, he was embarrassed for me to even see him in a towel after taking a shower. He took one look at me and turned bright red, watching me to make sure I didn't get too close. He got dressed as fast as possible and literally _ran _out of the hotel room. Like he thought I was going to attack him or something. That day we didn't eat breakfast with each other and talk about what to do next for the first time in years. I told him that everything's fine, I would have told him anything just to get him to quit getting all flustered around me, but obviously he didn't believe me."

Bobby stirred, "Of course he didn't believe you. It was a lie, and he probably knew it, at least on some level. Lying won't help your brother trust you again, Sam."

Sam accepted the reprimand, knowing it was true. She sighed. "I know. I just didn't want to lose him completely. It had been bad enough watching him throw himself at sluts on the road for years. But at least I still had him as a brother. He was still—"

Sam cut off, realizing she had been about to say _he was still mine._ That degree of possessiveness was not something she wanted to admit out loud. But of course, Bobby required no verbalization of the thought to read it. Her body language gave it away.

"He was still yours," Bobby finished for her, eyes amused.

Sam narrowed her eyes, "Yes."

"So you decided to pay him back, by doing the same thing, except a lot more."

"Not exactly. It wasn't to make him suffer."

Bobby raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

"I just thought that if he had a taste of his own medicine then he wouldn't do it anymore. Why was he so obsessed with getting laid that he was completely blind to anything else?"

"Blind to you, you mean."

Sam felt her fist clench. "Yes."

"So you thought if you had all these guys hang around you, he'd see that it's annoying or painful to watch and he'd stop doing it?"

Sam hated how simplistic Bobby was able to make that sound. But she couldn't deny it. Why didn't Dean see? It was so obvious that it was painful to see him hooking up with so many girls. "It didn't work. Every time Dean saw me with a bunch of guys, he was just eaten up with rage. It was written all over his face. I kept waiting for him to own up to his own rampid sex drive and stop it. I thought he'd see…, but he didn't."

"But you kept having all those one night stands? Hoping for what?"

Sam sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Nothing had gone as she had planned. "I thought that if I had failed at showing Dean that he should stop being such a pig by giving him a taste of his own medicine, maybe at least I could convince him that _I_ was a pig interested in different men, so he would stop being so embarrassed and awkward around me. I didn't really care whether he thought he had misread the his hug and the time he pinned to the bed and that I wasn't hot for him, or whether he thought I had just moved on to every other guy in the world and liked them instead of Dean. Anything that would make him less uncomfortable around me, so we could just get past all of it and go back to at least being brother and sister."

"But that didn't work either," Bobby stated, recalling the fiasco at the hotel. After Dean had left, Sam had just shut down, had barely spoken the rest of the day. Her 'date' left about thirty minutes later, completely at loss as to what was wrong with her. Bobby had known, and tried to get Dean to come back. But it hadn't worked. It was the only time Bobby had seen Sam get completely plastered. After a horribly silent dinner, Bobby had asked if Sam wanted to watch a movie or go out, but Sam had refused, saying she just wanted to be alone. Later that evening, Bobby had come into the kitchen to find Sam passed out in one of the kitchen chairs with a half empty bottle of bourbon. The next day, Dean had left with one of his hunting buddies for a job. Sam had given it a rest with her one night stands, but it was too late. "All you did was hurt Dean, who felt like not only did you choose a couple of one night stands over him, but that you were rubbing his face in the fact that you were consistently getting laid. When in fact you had no interest in them at all, and were just using them."

Sam just nodded, closing her eyes. "I was honest with them that I was… interested in someone else, but he didn't return my feelings. They were surprised, but was more than happy to sleep with me anyway. I was open with them. If I was using them, they knew and agreed to it."

"You made sure Dean knew of your one night stands. Whenever he was around, you were all over them. You never even looked at him. If you had, maybe you would have noticed how hurt he was by what you were doing."

"Or maybe he would have noticed that I could barely control myself around him. He came to the hotel one day covered with hickies from some girl, and I almost…," Sam closed her eyes, remembering the jealous rage she had felt at seeing _her_ Dean marked by someone else, and the almost primal urge to erase those marks by replacing them with marks of her own.

"You still want him," Bobby stated.

There was a long pause. Then:

"Yes…. But it's wrong. I shouldn't feel the way that I feel, but I do. Maybe… maybe if I got some space from him. Some time where I could get out my… attraction for him."

"So you're giving up on Dean, then?"

The words froze Sam in her seat, but she did not stop fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

"You left after the fight you had with him, not even bothering to take a change of clothes. Knowing you as I do, I can't imagine you left without telling him anything. Have you completely ruined things with him? Are you now giving up and willing to let him go and belong to someone else?"

Bobby was purposefully used the word 'belong', rather than 'be with', knowing it would trigger Sam's emotions. She had always been possessive and protective when it came to Dean, even though the older brother required no such thing. Bobby could read the tension in Sam's back and hands, every muscle was clenched.

"I didn't hear you, Sam."

"Sometimes, we don't get to choose what is going to happen."

"Because you think he isn't interested."

"I know he isn't interested."

"Is it normal for an uninterested brother to tackle and hug his little sister like that? Is it normal for an uninterested bother to sleep in his little sister's bed after the age of twelve? Is it normal for an uninterested brother to follow his little sister across doing hunting trips without even questioning it?"

Sam had considered this. She had looked at all those facts before, and hoped. But nothing had come from any attempt to get Dean to react to her in that way.

"It is possible that Dean doesn't realize he has deeper feelings for you."

"Bobby, I have had all kinds of people proposition me before. I have had men and women from the ages of eight to one hundred pursue me. Dean and I have been brother and sister for years, spending time together in almost every situation. I have been naked in front of Dean, and like you said, yes, he has shared my bed. And _n__othing ever happened_. If he wanted me he would have shown his interest in me by now and pursued me. I have had countless men and women desire me. I know how to read the signs. If he was interested in me at all, I would know by now."

Bobby thought about this, amused by the arrogance of someone he considered a daughter. While what Sam had said was true in a way, he knew that Sam was overlooking the fact that Dean was in fact _different _from all the other admirers that Sam had. Because the others were after sex first with her, and friendship as an afterthought. With Dean, it would not be that way. Bobby knew that Dean loved Sam at such a deep level that was uncommon in most siblings. Even if Dean held sexual feelings for Sam, he would not betray that bond by forcing his feelings on Sam overtly. In much the same way that Sam had withheld her own feelings from Dean.

But Bobby couldn't be absolutely _sure _that Dean returned Sam's desire. When platonic love ran so deep, sometimes it was hard to differentiate from erotic love. And he didn't want Sam to be hurt anymore than she already was. So he would not push his her further for now. He would first ascertain what Dean's real feelings were towards Sam. Dean was bound to come here, it was the most obvious place for Sam to run off to. When he arrived, Bobby would have time then to get to the bottom of this, and decide how best to proceed. But in the mean time he could help Sam sort through her muddled feelings.

"You will have to decide what you really want to do here, Sam. You can decide that Dean is not the only person you could want, and seek another. If you do that, you will need to accept the fact that he will also move on and will be with someone else. If you can't let him go, then you will need to convince him that there is more than siblinghood between you. It is true that you have had countless people pursue you. But if you want Dean, you will have to be the one to pursue him. He will not be like all those guys who simply swoon at your feet when you exhale."

"I know that, Bobby," Sam let her annoyance show.

Bobby smirked. _I wonder if you really do, Sam._

Sam frowned at the smirk behind the beard, "Dean has already had other _lovers,_" Sam spat the word, ignoring the look that Bobby sent reminding her that Sam had also been quite active in that regard. "I've already had to let him go."

Bobby just looked at her, amazed that someone so brilliant could be such a fool when it came to her own emotions, and those of her brother. If Sam really thought she had let go of Dean after everything she had just said then her self-awareness was worse than Dean's.

But there were ways to force her hand. One might have to wait a bit, and would involve some cooperation from Dean. But there was another option that was open to them tonight. "I think we should go out. A guy I saved from a Shifter owns a private club. We'll have no problem getting in. Go with an open mind. Don't look for someone who you could use to make Dean jealous. Go see if there are others out there that genuinely interest you. Come on, let's go."

The two hunters walked into the nightclub. Immediately, heated glances fell on Sam eating up her form. Guys and girls alike practically eye-molested her; feeling the raw sexual tension radiate off her in waves. She didn't even notice, she'd been used to it for years. Bobby rolled his eyes in amusement.

Bobby looked at Sam, "Let's get a drink." They walked over to the bar, and were immediately attended to. "Is Fred here tonight?"

The bartender nodded, "He'll be down shortly."

Bobby looked back over at Sam, who was already beginning to draw a small crowd. Tonight was about her, for her to attempt to move on, to get some perspective, and perhaps stop thinking of Dean the way he did.

Once Fred was down, Sam greeted him. Sam would try to take Bobby's advice, but she didn't think it would matter much. She hadn't exactly been celibate for the past two months. It hadn't helped. But then again, her partners had all been whoever would get in her bed quickest, not the most attractive lot. They bore no resemblance to Dean, her type. It was only their physical proximity to the object of her desires that had made the act stimulating at all.

A flash of spiky brunette caught her eye, and she looked as clear hazel eyes stared up at her from an attractive, masculine face, definitely not someone that was surely and bearded. The eye color was off, but perhaps… Sam smirked and blinked flirtatiously at the brunette male, who immediately walked over and sat next to her. She began to chat him up and draw circles on his arm, which he responded well to.

Bobby sighed. This wasn't going to work. Sam barely had to look at someone and they basically fell to their knees in front of her, or was at least interested. It wouldn't teach her how to pursue someone. All it was doing was reinforcing Sam's belief that if anyone were even slightly interested in her, they went straight for her zipper. Of course she didn't see that Dean was interested, if this was how she was used to that emotion being expressed. Bobby continued to watch Sam head to one of the back rooms with the brunette man.

_Well, at least some of the tension will be eased_. _Young love. Such idiots._

**:: ::**

**:: ::**

Sam left the bedroom. She gathered her clothes, put on the essentials, then proceeded to tip toe out of his house. Without a second thought, she took her keys, then drove her car away. It had been physically enjoyable, but emotionally vacant, just like every other time she had sex. Except with her boyfriend Josh before he died. The instant after her release, she had no further desire to talk to the person she had been with. The act itself had been more enjoyable then with random guys she found off the street, but there had not been that searing, overwhelming _feeling _that she had experienced from Dean's simple hug and tackle. She didn't want to ascribe a name to that feeling. She didn't want to think about what it meant that no one else even came close to making her feel that way.

She didn't know exactly what she felt about Dean at this exact moment, but she decided that she would be willing to see how her brother reacted to her. Sam felt slightly guilty that she had left without giving Dean a chance to explain himself further. After all, Dean's words potentially hadn't come out as he had meant them. Usually when it came to Sam, Dean was one of the most open-minded people she had ever met. He didn't hold a grudge when she left for Standford, so why would hold one now and judge her for her… _attraction_.

However, she did find it annoying, though, that all she had to do was glance at someone in the club and they were dragging her off to the nearest secluded area to have sex, while she had stood _naked_ in front of Dean on several occasions in their past, and Dean hadn't tried anything. She thought about ways that maybe she could… increase Dean's _awareness_ of her. Having Dean as a hunting buddy where they would often share hotel rooms left her fairly unlimited options in that regard.

Sam dialed Dean's number and she placed the phone to her ear. She waited as the tone blared and eventually Dean picked up. Dean's tone was flat and unamused.

"What do you want?"

"I… uh… I wanted to talk. You know, face-to-face, so when can we… talk?"

"Sorry, Sam," Dean said, scratching the back of his head, "now's not a good time— Cas, no don't zap! Cas! I don't care if you're an angel, get your ass back—"

The line cut off. Then the angel himself was in here passenger seat.

"Oh fuck!" She cursed.

Then she swerved before she felt a hand grasp her shoulder tightly. It felt like Sam was being pulled through a void before she was freed and able to breath again, much like how Harry Potter travels with appiration, but she was pretty sure it wasn't Dumbledore that grabbed her. She'd seen all sorts of whacky shit, but that ain't one of 'em.

Then finally she saw her brother. She was unable to look him the face, feeling far too awkward and embarrassed. However, her heart leaped, much to her chagrin harshly in her chest. Barely, even noticing that Castiel disappeared from their side, leaving them without a hint of an explanation as to why he dropped the two together again.

**Author's Note: Be sure to review. :—D**


	4. Fear Itself

**|Chapter Four— Fear Itself|**

The siblings were in the morgue, dressed professionally per usual. It was the only time Sam wore a skirt and Dean's eyes were painting the backs of her thighs raw, thinking of a million different ways to slam her up against the wall and hike up that damn cock tease of a skirt.

He was thankful and somewhat frustrated that Castiel brought her back, but he was also annoyed and confused as to why he did so.

The coroner said, "Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, meet Frank O'Brien," interrupting the two from their thoughts.

"He died of a heart attack, right?" Sam asked.

"Three days ago."

She then added, "But O'Brien was forty-four years old and, according to this a marathon runner."

"Everybody drops dead sooner or later, sweetheart. It's why I got job security."

True. But it was bizarre and that was why the Winchesters were there investigating. They weren't real FBI agents, they didn't care unless it had to do with the supernatural **(A/N: no pun intended)**.

"Yeah, but Frank kicked it here. Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks, you don't think that's strange?" Dean inquired.

"Sounds like Maumee's problem to me. Why's the FBI give a damn, anyway?"

"We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy," Dean asked, opting to distract the coroner from getting an answer that he didn't have an answer for.

There was a pause.

"What autopsy?"

Dean was quick on his feet, "The one you're gonna do."

The coroner cut open the dead body as the siblings watched. It signaled him to ask, "First dead body?"

Dean answered truthfully this time, "Far from it."

"Oh, good," he yanked hard to get through some arteries and organs he wasn't looking for. "Because these suckers can get pretty ripe," then he addressed Dean. "Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?"

Sam took a fortifying breath while Dean picked up the cutters and handed it to the Coroner. Said Coroner cut the ribs open while she kept herself from squirming.

Then Dean saw a paler and smaller patch of skin on his index finger and it prompted him to ask, "Is that from a wedding ring? I didn't think Frank was married."

"Ain't my department."

Then Sam noticed something, "Any idea how he got these?" she picked up Frank's arm which was full of scratches.

"You know what, sweetheart?" that was the second time he called her 'sweetheart' and Dean was beginning to get annoyed by it. "When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground. Huh!"

The man pulled out the red and rip heart from the rib cages he just sawed through with special bone cutting tools. The Winchesters looked at it skeptically, they weren't doctors so they didn't understand.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I-I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries." Dean tried to his best not to vomit when looking at the thing. The corner continued on. "Heart looks pretty damn healthy." Then he handed the organ to Dean. "Hold that a second, would you?"

The brother saw his sister smirk if it didn't annoy him so much he would've considered it a pretty effective turn on.

The coroner cut something else in the body and it ended up hitting Sam's face with blood.

"Oh, sorry. Spleen juice," the coroner said.

Dean smirked.

After the Winchesters got cleaned up from the nastiness that Frank's body spilled, the two sat down in front of the deputy's desk, waiting. Said deputy smiled at Sam that smile she normally got from guys that pursued her. Dean noticed this. He also noticed that Sam was giving him the 'sex eyes' right back at him. For that he placed his arm around the back of her chair, arm flexing possessively.

He was about to give that damn deputy a piece of his mind, but Dean was brought out of his jealous thoughts when the sheriff opened his office door.

He said crankily, "Hell's bells, Linus, have you seen my— who are they?"

The siblings stood, as the sheriff's eyes went from toe to head over Sam's body. Dean swore he was going to blow a gasket. Why did everyone think they could just eye molest his sister like that? He blamed it on how Sam dressed.

Linus said, "Federal agents. I, uh…."

The sheriff said, "And you kept them waiting?" and then gestured, lead Sam into his office, not aware of Dean giving him the stink eye for checking out his sister's ass.

Linus said nervously, "You, you said not to disturb."

He ignored his deputy and shut the door behind Dean.

He addressed the two of them, "Shoes off."

Dean and Sam took their shoes off and stood in the sheriff's office before his desk, waiting for him to say something.

He finally did, "Al Britton. Good to meet you," and then shook Dean and Sam's hands. He was far more gentle with Sam's which Dean took immediate notice to.

"You too."

The sheriff gestured for Sam and Dean to sit down.

"Thank you," she said.

Al then took out some hand sanitizer and started to slather his hands. Dean looked at Sam with a weird look on his face.

"Okay. So, what can I do for darling?" He asked Sam, much to Dean's annoyance.

"Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien. We understand some of your men found his body," she said, her tone normal.

"They did. Me and Frank, we were friends, hell, we were gamecocks," he sighed, his voice hard but not shaky, obviously upset but too _manly_ to show it. Either way Dean snickered and Al gave him a stern look. Dean looked abashed. "That's our softball team's name." Dean nodded, obviously not impressed. "They're majestic animals. I knew Frank since high school; to be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was… he was a good man."

"Yeah. Big heart," Dean joked.

Sam gave him a stern look per usual for his insensitivity. He found those looks amusing, they were one of the reasons why he made jokes like that, to grate on her nerves. Whether or not he was insanely attracted to her or she was still his little sister and occasionally they fought like cats and dogs. Typical sibling interactions when they were so close in age.

She looked away and said, "Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange? Maybe scared of something?"

"Oh hell, yeah, sweetheart. Real jumpy."

"You know what scared him?"

Dean was growing more and more possessively jealous. What's with all the aggressive types going after his sister? It was as if she attracted that sort specifically and they just flocked to her like pigeons to anything remotely edible. But he couldn't deny Sam was edible.

Al answered, "No, wouldn't answer his phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and well, you know the rest."

Al started and poured alcohol gel on his hands again. Dean looked at Sam with a confused look on his face as to why he was such a germaphobe.

Al continued to slather his hands, "So, why the Feds give a crap? You don't really think there's a case here?"

He looked at her, "No, no, it's probably nothing. Just a heart attack."

The siblings were walking out of the office.

"No way that was a heart attack."

"Definitely no way. Three victims, all with those same red scratches, all went from jittery to terrified to dead within forty-eight hours. All right, so what can do that?" Sam asked.

"What can't? Ghosts, vampires, chupacabra? It could be a hundred things."

"Yeah. So, we make a list and start crossing things off."

"Alright, who's the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?"

She looked on her paper and said, "Uh, his neighbor, Mark Hutchins."

Suddenly, Dean stopped, placing a hand in front of Sam to signal her to stop as well. He saw a group of teenagers roughing up a smaller and scrawnier kid for his bike. It was a bit shady, but the Winchesters have seen much worse in their day.

"Hang on, hang on, I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there."

Sam took a look and noticed the little whipper snappers were near the Impala, Dean's baby, but she didn't think much of it. So what? They were just a bunch kids that the both of them could scare any day with just a couple of graphic ghost stories. The point was, she wasn't impressed by them.

"Let's walk this way," he said, leaving behind a thoroughly confused Sam.

:: ::

:: ::

Time passed, the siblings did some more investigating. Dean sat in the Impala scratching away on his left arm like he was suffering from hives only in a specific area; he waited for Sam to give him some comforting news. He wanted to be done with this case as soon as possible. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait that long because said sister opened the door on the passenger side, sat, then closed the door behind her.

"Hey. Any luck at the county clerk's office?" she asked.

"I'm not sure I'd call it luck. Frank's wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive; she went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over, strung up in her motel room, suicide."

A disgusted look decorated her features, "Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?"

"No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared, airtight alibi."

He cranked up his baby with a simple turn of the keys. Soon they were driving in the middle of the town.

"How was Frank's pad?" he asked her.

"Clean. Searched it top to bottom, no EMF, no hex bags, no sulphur."

"So probably no ghosts, no witches, no demons. Three down and ninety-seven to go," he sighed, obviously annoyed.

Normally he'd be all gung-ho about saving people, hunting things, the family business, but today he just wasn't feeling it. He felt like staying home, or the hotel since he didn't have a permanent residence, and curling up with his sister. But that wasn't going to happen especially the Sam thing.

"Yeah," he watched how her cool chocolate brown eyes peer at his dash. "Dude, you're going twenty."

"And?"

"That's the speed limit," she said incredulously.

His voice turned defensive, "What? Safety's a crime now?"

He drove through the intersection, past their hotel. He wasn't oblivious to her obvious anger to that move.

"Where the hell are you going? That was our hotel!"

"Sam, I'm not gonna make a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic. I'm not suicidal."

Sam gave Dean a confused look, not understanding as to why he was acting so weird today. He wasn't obvious to those stares either.

"Did I just say that? That was kind of weird," he amended.

Suddenly, she heard a strange beeping in the background in the Impala. She looked around, feeling a little strange. It definitely wasn't a phone.

"Do you hear something?"

She took out the EMF meter, moved it from and to Dean where it made a sound. The siblings looked at each with a panicked, knowing look.

"Am I haunted? Am I haunted?!"

The next day, Sam was heading back to the hotel whilst on the phone with Bobby. She gave him a quick goodbye and thanks for the help that he'd done since she saw Dean in the Impala, he was air drumming to Eye of the Tiger, getting really into it. Then she tapped the roof of the car. A small and unmanly squeak escaped his lips from surprise, then he looked away bashfully when she flashed him a smug, sexy smirk at giving her older brother a scare.

Soon enough those sexy lips explained the deal to Dean, telling him somewhat delicately that he had contracted a ghost sickness from holding onto Frank's heart at the morgue. Initially, he was pissed. Why did he get a damn ghost sickness when his sister came out smelling like roses? It turned out that all the guys that died of this sickness had the same personality types: they were dicks. That just further served to piss Dean off not considering himself to be a dick. Then Sam hastily explained that he used fear as a weapon and he was aggressive kind of guy. That didn't bode well either.

"So now what, I have forty-eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?" Dean said incredulously.

"More like twenty-four," she said, looking guilty for some reason.

"Super."

"Yeah."

A small pause ran between them. It was an awful predicament and the two were awkward when it came to discussing stuff like this even more so than usual. Sam usually tried to get Dean and to open up since the guy kept his feelings buried inside so no one would dare call him a pussy for it. But now it seemed she didn't give a fuck and wanted to keep her distance.

Then his attitude changed when he said, "Whatever. How do we stop it?" rather stiffly.

"We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that, the disease should clear up."

"You thinking Frank's wife?"

It was a high possibility. Nothing was for certain.

"Who knows why she killed herself, you know?" she paused and asked Dean curiously. "Hey, what are you doing waiting out here, anyway?"

He looked up at the hotel then back to her. Fear clearly etched in his eyes as he had a bit of trouble expressing his problem. He wasn't one to talk about his feelings unless he knew for sure that it would somehow benefit him. Normally, he was aggressive and guarded about that sort of thing.

"Our room's on the fourth floor," he stated. She looked up there briefly and shook her head, he could tell she didn't know what he was getting at so he elaborated a little further. "It's… it's kinda high."

"I'll see if I can move us down to the first," she giggled softly as he flushed in embarrassment.

"Thanks."

She didn't say anything instead throwing a wave over her shoulder in a big swooping fashion. Dean just watched her hips sway, thinking of a million and one ways to push her up against that hotel building and hike up that skirt.

Then he shook his head opting to climb into the Impala for a little rest to clear his head.

Later on, now that his room was on the first floor, Dean sat at table with book in front of him, staring at wall clock ticking loudly in the background. He went back to reading and started coughing when he saw disturbing images. He saw words that seemed to be talking to him and started to panic. He irritatingly looked back at the clock.

A loud sound of something breaking occurred.

Dean watched as Sam came into the room, stepping over the clock he just hulk smashed. He was on the sofa drinking an ice cold beer. His eye, of course, traveling everywhere across her body, wishing she wasn't such a goddamn cock tease.

"Everything all right?" He barely heard her soft tone.

He says a little gruffly, "Oh yeah, just peachy. Find anything?"

He was aware that she took a seat unfathomably close to him, practically sitting on him. Well, they were in a love seat. But still, Dean was already nervous enough without Sam all pressed up against him like that.

"Yeah, Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, so I'm pretty sure she is not our ghost," she said casually. That close proximity caused Dean to scratch at his already nasty look rash nervously. She placed her smaller painted hand on his to cease his painful, nervous scratching. "Hey, quit picking at that…. How you feeling?"

His heart beat rapidly in his chest seeing as her chest was pressed up against his, giving him a nice and far from subtle of her cleavage. He wanted to snap those buttons off. He wanted to take both of those teasing tits and suck them into his mouth, to hear her cry out for him.

He clear his throat and forced a normal tone, "Awesome. It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like."

"Yeah," she moved back and that included her hand much to his disgruntle.

"It's freaking delightful," sarcasm dripped from his tone.

"We'll keep looking," she sighed.

Suddenly, he began to cough. Soon those coughs turned violent, like he couldn't breath. He was struggling, choking even. That immediately alerted Sam.

"You okay? Hey! Dean!"

Her hand immediately whacked him the back. Hard. With a violent and explosive cough a wood chip flew out of his mouth and onto the table. He breathed harshly as Sam rubbed circles into his back. Dean had to stop himself from making an audible noise of delight.

"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have, you," she said, as she picked up the deadly chip off the table.

Dean pouted, "I don't wanna be a clue."

"The abrasions, this, the disease, it's trying to tell us something," excitement was in her voice as she faced him.

"Tell us what, wood chips?"

She smiled brightly, "Exactly."

The two arrived at the local mill during the day. Dean looked at it apprehensively as his sister attempted a smile to try and give him courage. That smile made his heart jump out of nervousness and from the fluttery feelings forming from that.

"I'm not going in there," he said pointing at Sam.

She sighed in annoyance, "I need backup, and you're all I've got. You're going in, Dean."

He pulled out a bottle of hard whiskey and swigged the liquid courage.

"Let's do this!" He walked around to the trunk with his keys as she followed him. "It is a little spooky, isn't it?"

Sam dug through the fine weaponry in the trunk as Dean looked at her backside bent over. Despite the fear that coursed through him, he still wanted to tap that. No much could distract a man from his bodily urges.

Then his attention was brought to her hand, which held a gun.

"Oh, I'm not carrying that; it could go off," he then picked up a different object. "I'll man the flashlight."

She blinked slowly and let out a loud sigh, "You do that."

Then the two were inside the lumber mill, he kept close to her. He clung to her side, holding her right around the waist. She gave him a look, the he didn't notice. So she alerted him.

"Do you mind?" She said giving him an amused look.

"Sorry."

The two kept walking. The EMF went off, buzzing loudly and annoying the both of them.

"EMF's not gonna work with me around, is it?"

"You don't say," she turned it off and pocketed the item. "Come on."

The two walked on in silence, he kept close to her for fear of well everything. It was beginning to get on Sam's nerves and Dean could tell. Then again, lately it seemed everything got on her nerves when it came to him.

"Wait…," she said, startling him. She picked up a ring and read the inscription, "'To Frank. Love, Jessie.' Frank O'Brien's ring."

"What the hell was Frank doing here?"

"No idea."

The Winchesters heard a soft banging, immediately Sam wished to investigate, but Dean was afraid and not so keen. She walked into a room as he followed closely behind. They ended up in a room full of lockers where the rustling took place.

She looked over to him, who looked absolutely terrified. She mouthed to him telling him that she was going to open it on three. She began to her countdown:

Three…

two…

one…

She ripped open the locker. A cute little kitty meowed and hopped out of the locker. Then the little creature and Sam had their ear drums abused by the same thing.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHH!" Dean bent over on his knees after he was finished screaming. Then he looked up at Sam who was giggling lightly which prompted him to say nervously. "That was scary!" She then began to walk away. "Wait."

Looking at an ID card, Sam said, "Luther Garland."

Dean saw a drawing on the table, "Hey, this is uh… this is Frank's wife."

She walked over to where her brother was. He could feel her warmth radiating from her body and it caused him to be even more nervous.

"Plot thickens," she said, it felt like a tongue was in his ear.

He swallowed uncomfortably, "Yeah, but into what?"

Dean tore off the drawing and the machines cranked up. Looking around he saw something in the corner. She looked at him and saw him looking behind her, she turned around and saw the same thing.

"Hey!" She turned around and saw Dean running out the mill.

Sam then shot the apparition and went after Dean who was hiding behind the Impala taking another drink. She let out an annoyed sigh, it was funny to her at first but now it was just annoying the hell out of her.

"Guess we got the right place," she said holding a hand to him to help him up.

Soon the Winchesters were in the deputy's office. Dean kept swaying, unable to keep steady on his feet. He was afraid, so he drank and when he drank he got drunk. It was the struggle.

But he couldn't deny that Sam's ass looked delectable. But he was seeing double, so he kept missing when trying to get to it. He wanted to cop a feel so badly, it was insane.

Linus handed Sam the folder, "This is the Garland file." Then he noticed that Dean kept swaying and his eyes were trained on her lower back. "Is he… drunk?"

Dean saw Sam look over at him, face flushing from his open leering. He watched her high ponytail whip around from the force of turning her head. He smirked, continuing his open staring.

"No," she said, Dean detected the strain in her voice. Then she spoke in a normal tone. "Deputy, according to this, Luther Garland's cause of death was physical trauma. What does that mean?"

Linus said, "The guy died twenty years ago, before my time. Sorry."

"Then can we talk to the sheriff?"

Then Dean came up behind Sam, inhaling her scent. She smelled of green apples and he loved. His nose touched the base of her neck and he immediately felt her stiffen. He smirked lecherously, hidden by said neck.

"Um, he's out sick today," Linus sounded uncomfortable.

"Well, if you see him, will you have him call us? We're staying at the Bluebird. Mind if I take this?"

Then Sam left, Dean following closely behind, trying not to stumble. Then eventually the two were walking inside an assisted living. He held onto Sam her since he was startled by just about everything in there. It was clear that she was getting annoyed by his clingyness; she slapped away his hands.

"This isn't gonna work. Come on, these badges are fake. What if we get busted?" he said, panick rising in him. "We could go to jail."

"Dean, shh! Calm down," she grasped his shoulders. She looked him in the eyes and he tried to stay calm. But the fear was getting to him. "Deep breath, okay?" Dean took a deep breath. "There. You feel better?" He shook his head no. "Just come on. Don't scratch."

He walked behind Sam, keeping close to her. They approached an elderly man.

"Mr. Garland, hi uh, I'm Agent Tyler. This is Agent Perry, FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother Luther," she asked sweetly, Dean wished she talked to him that kindly.

"Let me see some I.D.," Garland said.

"Certainly," she said confidently.

Both Dean and her showed their badges and handed it to Garland. She was cool as a cucumber unlike her brother who was shaking with nerves.

"Those are real, obviously. I mean, who would pretend to be an FBI agent, huh? That's just nutty," he said and he got stomped on the foot by his sister, signaling him to shut his trap.

After an agonizing moment for him, Garland said, "What do you want to know?"

Dean and Sam took a seat across from Garland, he sat close to her. She was the only one that he could cling to when in fear. But then again if he got too clingy, like before, she'd reprimand him on it and smack his arms away. It was like that when they were kids.

"Uh, well… according to this your brother Luther died of physical trauma," she began but stopped when she heard Garland scoff. Which caused her to question him on it. "You don't agree."

"No, I don't," he said.

"Well, then, what would you call it?"

She was curious as she leaned in. Dean's eyes traveled up and down her shape. Thankfully he wasn't seeing double now.

"Don't matter what an old man thinks."

"Mr. Garland, we're just trying to get the truth on your brother. Please."

"Everybody was scared of Luther. They called him a monster. He was too big, too mean-looking, just too different. Didn't matter he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter he'd never hurt no one. A lot of people failed Luther, I was one of them. I was a widower with three young 'uns and I told myself there was nothing I could do."

Sam pulled out a picture and showed it to Garland.

"Mr. Garland, um… do you recognize this woman?"

"It's Jessie O'Brien. Her man, Frank, killed Luther…. Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always real nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. But Frank didn't like it. And when Jessie went missing, Frank was sure that Luther had done something to her; turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that. They found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant till he was past dead."

The Winchesters exchanged a look between each other, something wasn't right. How would Frank get off so easily without even some kind of mention in the younger generations of cops and certainly the older one's? He would've at least been tried for murder and that would've come up. Something definitely wasn't right.

"And O'Brien was never arrested?" Dean asked, incredulously.

Garland's tone sounded defeated, "I screamed to every cop in town; they didn't want to look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community, my brother was just the town freak."

"You must have hated Frank O'Brien," Sam said knowingly, genuinely sympathizing with him.

"I did for a long time, but life's too short for hate, hon," he said. Her eyebrows creased, confused as to why he still wasn't burning with hatred even after Frank was dead and there wasn't anything to do about it. But she and Dean continued to listen as Garland explained further. "And Frank wasn't thinking straight. His wife had vanished, he was terrified. A damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but… that's fear. It spreads and spreads."

**:: ::**

**:: ::**

The two siblings exited the retirement home, night had fallen during their time speaking to Luther's brother. There was definitely a mood shift, Dean detected it through his increasing fear, but he couldn't identify it. His sister was a mystery: quiet, reserved, always seemed to have a secret agenda; opposed to Dean who was normally clear with his intentions, outgoing, often making inappropriate jokes. Of course, opposites attract. But sometimes he just wanted to shake her and demand that she'd be upfront about everything, sick of going around in circles. However, he couldn't do that since the ghost sickness made him terrified that Sam would rip him a new where his precious family jewels once were.

He approached the rather urgent topic at hand, "Now we know what these are, road rash. And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road."

"Makes sense," she said simply. "You're experiencing his death in slow motion."

He leaned on his baby across from her as he continued to relentlessly scratch.

"Yeah well, not slow enough, huh?" he said placing his hands on the top of the Impala. His tone suddenly turned cheery. "Say we burn some bones and get me healthy."

She said uncomfortably, "Dean, it won't be that easy."

A line of tension trickled across Dean's back, his head popped up from its slouch, and his eyes practically popped out of their skull. Highly resembling a fuzzy woodland animal. **(A/N: You know which one I'm talking about. ;-))**

"No, no, it'll be that easy. Why wouldn't it be that easy?" his tone panicked.

She explained carefully but equally as cautiously, "Luther was road-hauled, his body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There's no way we're gonna find all the remains," then he tone attempted to radiate some hope. "Look, we'll just have to figure something else out."

It didn't work.

"You know what? Screw this," Dean said walking away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dean."

He walked around to the other side of the Impala, away from Sam. He was terrified and didn't trust himself around his little sister.

"Come on. No, I mean, come on, Sam. What are we doing?!"

"We're hunting a ghost," she replied simply.

Dean shouted at her incredulously, "A ghost, exactly! Who does that?"

She said simply, "Us."

Dean slammed his hands on the hood, normally he wouldn't dare potentially endanger his baby. Then again, he wasn't in his right mind and just wanted to be safe from everything.

"Us? Right. And that Sam, that is exactly why our lives suck," he said, arms flailing. "I mean, come on, we hunt monsters! What the hell?! I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run. But not us, no, no, no, we-we search out things that want to kill us. Yeah? Huh? Or eat us! You know who does that? Crazy people! We… are insane!" He shouted at her and she just quirked a brow at him. "You know, and then there's the bad diner food and then the skeevy motel rooms and then the truck-stop waitress with the bizarre rash. I mean, who wants this life, Sam? Huh? Seriously?

"Do you actually like being stuck in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day? I don't think so! I mean, I drive too fast. And I listen to the same five albums over and over and over again, a-and I sing along. I'm annoying, I know that. And you-you're the biggest cock tease ever! You act like my regular little sister all nice and somewhat affectionate, then you act like the coldest bitch I know. Why is everything so bad between us?!" After a short pause he tossed her the keys. "You can forget it."

Dean began to walk away, leaving Sam behind. He needed air, somehow to calm his nerves.

"Whoa, Dean. Where are you going?" She said.

"Stay away from me Sam, okay? Cause I am done with it. I'm done with the monsters and-and-and the hellhounds and the ghost sickness and the damn apocalypse and you. I'm out. I'm done. I quit."

Later on that night after getting chased by a little Yorkie with a bow, Dean finally went back to the hotel, wanting some sleep. He was still on edge about… well everything.

Sam opened the door, "I looked everywhere for you, Dean." Her arms wrapped around his neck. "How the hell did you get here?"

Oddly enough he was comforted by Sam's hug, opting to wrap his own arms around his sister's waist. He held her close. His nose buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling her sent and accepting her smaller body's warmth.

"Ran. What do we do now? I got less than four hours on the clock. I'm gonna die, Sammy," he sounded defeated against her neck.

Sam pulled away, but her arms were still around her neck, "Yeah, you are." Dean looked puzzled. "You're going back."

"Back?"

"Downstairs Dean, hell. It's about damn time, too. Truth is," Sam blinked her dark thick eyelashes somewhat seductively at Dean with yellow-eyes. "You've been a real pain in my ass."

Sam threw Dean against wall with a hand gesture, demon blood influencing each movement.

"No! You get out of my sister, you evil son of a bitch!"

Dean felt Sam moved in close, hands on his chest. He could feel it pulsating against her small and soft hands.

"No one's possessing me, Dean. This is what I'm going to become, this is what I want to become," her plump lips moved in close to his. Dean's heart pumped faster his chest for two reasons: fear and arousal. "There's nothing you can do about it."

Dean felt her hands grip his neck, beginning to squeeze the life out of him. Things were beginning to go dim and the only thing he could see was his sister's yellow eyes smirking maliciously at him.

Then suddenly jarred out of his hallucination.

"Hey, hey, hey, Dean. Hey, Dean. Dean. Dean."

Dean collapsed into her arms, holding her close. He heard her soft gasp in his ear, it was music. He supposed that she didn't expect such affection, but he didn't care he was afraid… afraid for him and his little Sammy.

At night on his bed, Dean had trouble getting sleep. He was afraid and so many things were on his mind, troubling him. He just wanted to snuggle something. So he looked over and saw his little sister on the other bed a couple of feet away from him. Without a second thought he got out of bed and hovered.

"Sam," he whispered then he leaned in. "Sa— agh!"

He ended up getting socked in the stomach, collapsing to the carpeted floor. He groaned in pain, reminding himself not to sneak up on his little sister especially when she was trying to get some sleep.

"Dammit Dean, don't sneak up on me like that," she said, pulling him up by his arms. "What do you want?"

"C-can I sleep with you tonight? I'm scared."

His heart was pounding in his chest at the thought of sleeping next to her and potentially holding her close. He hoped to be able to spoon her, potentially grope one her perky, bra-less, breasts and call it an accident. That would certainly distract him from his fear and help him sleep better. He also knew sex would help him catch some z's, but he knew that wouldn't fly… especially tonight. Cranky Sam was Crazy Sam, Dean knew that ever since they were kids.

"Fine," she said, "I just want to get some sleep."

She scooted over and pulled the covers over herself. That was when Dean scrambled into the bed, pulled the covers up, then pulled Sam flush against his chest. He couldn't help it, he needed someone to hold like a frightened child. Plus, she smelled nice, had soft skin, and was the woman he couldn't get out of his mind. It wasn't like it was _all_ out of crippling fear. But that was beside the point because in that instance, Sam's eyes widened to the size of saucers and Dean felt this hard pointed elbow being rammed into his chest. It knocked the breath out of him. He fell out of the bed, groaning softly, and trying to regain his breath. He should've seen that coming, clearly she wouldn't be into that. Well. At least this time when he got hit tonight he got to swipe a hand across one of her breasts without her even noticing.

Totally worth it.

"Goddammit, Dean!" she said crankily, clearly exhausted. "I'm too tired for your horsing around. Please, just go to bed."

Next day. Sam was sitting on the Impala, waiting for a person that always came through when it came to supernatural and personal issues. She was trying to rid her mind of last night and how Dean's body felt up against hers, telling herself over and over again that when his hand barely brushed one of her boobs was just a coincidence. It was Dean after all, he did and said all sorts of things for a good laugh. But thankfully she didn't have to dwell on that too long because a pick up truck pulled up next to her.

Bobby got out of the truck, "Howdy, Sam."

"Hey, Bobby, thanks for coming so quick," she smiled genuinely.

"Where's Dean?" he looked around, then sounded exasperated. "Please tell me you didn't call me and drag my ass out here because you two igets are fighting again."

"Um, no, we're okay-ish. But that's not the problem right now, he's actually home sick."

Back at the hotel Dean was sitting inside the hotel watching TV, trying to distract himself. It was working fine until he witnessed Pokey being lassoed and dragged off screen. Oh the cruel irony.

"Oh, this isn't helping."

Back to the lumber mill.

"So, have his hallucinations started yet?" Bobby asked leaning up against the Winchesters' beloved Impala.

"Yeah, a few hours ago."

"How we doing on time?"

"We saw the coroner about 8:00 a.m. Monday morning, so, uh… just under two hours. What about you? You find anything?"

Bobby wasn't a fool, he could see her trying to mask her growing worry for her older brother. If he didn't know of her deeper feelings he would suppose it was platonic love backing that up, but the old fart knew better. And shame on her for trying to hide it, that never ends well. She wasn't a Vulcan for crying out loud.

"This uh, encyclopaedia of spirits dates to the Edo period," he said giving Sam a book with Japanese text. "This book lists a kind of ghost that could be our guy; it uh, infects people with fear. It's called a Buru-Buru."

"It say how to kill it?"

"Same as usual: burn the remains."

Her milk chocolate brown eyes shifted down at her feet as she let out a stressed and annoyed sigh. This hunt was train wreck after train wreck and she was getting pretty damn sick of it.

"Wonderful," her tone was biting, then went to mildly annoyed. "Uh… is there a Plan B?"

"Well, the Buru-Buru is born of fear. Hell, it is fear and the lore says we can kill it with fear."

"So we have to scare a ghost to death?"

"Pretty much."

Her brows creased in confusion, "How the hell we gonna do that?"

Back at the hotel room, Dean's cellphone rang. His heart leapt in his chest for two reasons before he picked it up. Sam's voice usually soothed him even if she was being cold to him. She was family after all, his only biological family left, but things were grating on his nerves. However he refused to talk about that sort of thing.

"Hey," he said quickly, trying to keep his heart from beating hard in his chest and hoping for good news.

"Hey! So, uh, just ride out the trip, okay? You're-you're gonna be fine, we got a plan," she said slightly uncomfortably.

"What is it?"

She was incredibly uncomfortable now. Her brother's life was in the palm of her hands and she had a questionable plan; guilt was a more accurate word describe her emotion at the moment.

"Uh, just a good plan, all right? Hang in there," she said, twirling the tip of her ponytail nervously.

Back at the mill Bobby regained Sam's attention.

"This is a terrible plan," Bobby corrected her.

She relented as she hung up the phone, "Yeah, tell me about it."

"I know I said 'scare the ghost to death' but this?"

They looked down at the iron chain etched with spell-work attached to the Impala. It was a pretty crazy notion.

It lead Sam to say, "Hey, you got a better idea, I'm listening."

Sam entered the mill when a hand came up behind a glass window that showed Luther's reflection. She didn't notice, obviously.

Meanwhile, back at the hotel Dean started to hear barking, the barking of the hellhounds. He was going back, what he feared the most. They were coming; right at the door they were shaking there, and banging hard. Suddenly the door was broken off its hinges.

He looked over in fear, "Sheriff?" he saw a gun in his hand. "What are you doing?"

Al said, "Why are you looking into Luther Garland's death?"

He saw his right arm, raw and red with finger nail scratches, "Hey, hey, you're-you're sick. You're sick. You're sick, all right? Just-just like me, okay? You got to relax."

Al smacked Dean right across the face, he fell.

"Frank O'Brien was my friend. So he made a mistake, so I didn't bust him, so what? And you're gonna bring me down over that?! No, sir."

He pointed his gun at Dean, but out of fear and a combination of instinct he swatted the gun out of his hand. They saw the weapon fly across the floor, then looked at each other before they dived for it. They wrestled for a good few minutes, not in a gay way, throwing jabs, punches and kicks. Eventually, Dean knocked him back and got the gun.

Britton started to hyperventilate, "Get away from me!"

"Al, you got to calm down!" Dean said.

"Step back!"

He grasped his heart painfully.

At the lumber mill Sam was still walking around waiting inside for Luther to show up. Ain't nobody got time for that especially when your brother was dying because of this ghost's violent death and haunting.

Over the walky-talky Bobby asked, "Any luck?"

She sighed in annoyance, "I don't know what's wrong, Bobby. Last time he came right at us, it's almost like he's, uh… like he's scared."

She put her shotgun down on the counter impatiently.

"So now what?"

"I guess I got to make him angry," she called loudly. "Hey, Luther!" she started to tear up drawings. Immediately machines turned on. "Come on, Luther! Where the hell are you? What are you waiting for?" she turned around and saw Luther there causing a small squeak to escape her.

Then Dean sat on the bed scratching his arms, red and raw like the sheriff that died in the room a few minutes ago. He heard again what Sam said during his hallucination earlier, haunting him.

_You're going back. It's about damn time too. Hahahaha._

He heard barking. Then he looked down on at his watch and saw something on the floor. He picked it up and saw it was the Bible. He held it close, clutching, hoping.

A deadly voice said, "Hi, Dean."

He looked over and saw his precious little sister with black eyes. She was dressed in a short, black, tight dress with heels and wavy hair. Her expression was malicious. It was as if she wanted to enjoy ripping him to pieces, using the abilities the demon blood granted her.

"Huh, no! No!"

"Yes! It's me, Sam," she embraced him tightly, nuzzling the tip her nose in his neck. "Didn't you know? I'm a demon, I guess all that _blood_ just payed off. Well, it's time to go back now."

He immediately stood up and moved away from his sister, "You! You are not real!"

"What's the matter, Dean? Don't you like me as a demon, all pretty?" She said running a hand through her hair and down the side of her dress. It made Dean swallow uncomfortabley as she stood in front of him. She trailed a hand down his chest, getting back to the point. "Don't you remember all the fun you had down there? You do remember, every second of it right. You lied to me, but that's okay because four months in hell is like forty years. So we're cool I guess."

Dean clutched his chest where Sam pushed him to the ground.

He looked up and said to her, "You are not real.

"It doesn't matter. You're still gonna die, you're still gonna burn," she said holding his face up to hers.

"Why me? Why'd I get infected?"

She dropped his face, placing a heeled foot on his chest whilst her hands rested on her hips. He couldn't help wandering eyes that went up her pretty, smooth legs, upset that black line of fabric obscured his vision of that hot little place he's been fantasizing about for quite some time. That didn't last long though. His heart was beating hard horribly in his chest, causing more and more fear to course through him.

"Stupid brother, you know why, Dean. Listen to your heart."

"Whu…?" Dean said, befuddled.

"Baboom, baboom, baboom, baboom," she said digging her heel into his chest, keeping him down.

Back at the mill, Sam kept fighting Luther's spirit. He tripped her, she lost her balance and her back smacked hard on the ground, knocking the wind out of her. His hands pinned her arms down, keeping her from moving them. It wasn't like she hadn't been in a situation like that before. Since Dean had alway wanted a brother as a kid, he would surprise attack his sister like this; they used to have fun doing that until their Dad jumped down Dean's throat for trying to rough up his sister.

So Sam had a counter attack. She used one of her legs to flip him over and the other to pin his arm down, effectively gaining the upper hand. That is until Luther had enough, broke free, and pushed her back.

Back at the hotel room, Illusionary Sam straddled Dean's stomach. She taunted him by thumping her two fists hard on his chest every time she uttered 'baboom.' Dean was terrified. His heart was practically ready to explode in his chest….

Then at the mill where the Real Sam was, she managed to wrap the chain around Luther's neck.

"Bobby, punch it!"

Bobby did as he was told and floored the Impala. He road haled Luther's spirit across the road. He struggled and struggled, feeling the fear that Dean at the hotel was feeling until he inevitably disappeared. Miraculously said brother recovered in the hotel room, Fake Sam was gone.

A couple hours later the hunters were in the middle of no where with their own respective cars. The Winchesters leant up against the Impala, Dean's baby and Bobby was against his truck. They were talking about what just happened and how they dealt with Luther.

"So you guys road-haled a ghost with a chain?" Dean questioned.

"An iron chain etched with spell work," she said, trying to make it sound more convincing.

She took the last sip of her beer before setting it on top of the hood. Dean watched, enjoying that her eyes were milk chocolate brown and had pupils opposed to what his hallucinations showed him.

So he commented casually, trying and failing to not think about Sam, "Hmm, that's a new one."

She commented casually, "It was what he was most afraid of. It was pretty brutal, though."

Then Dean tried cheerfully, "On the upside, I'm still alive, so uh, go team!"

Then she gave him a concerned look. It never failed to make his insides melt a little. He would deny until his face turned blue since apparently he couldn't have 'girly' feelings about stuff like that.

"Yeah. How you feeling, by the way?" She asked.

"Fine," he lied.

That prompted Bobby to tease him, "You sure, Dean? 'Cause this line of work can get awful scary."

Sam giggled, putting a slender little hand up to her mouth. Bobby chuckled drily too. All of it accumulated in punching a hole right in his manly pride. Dean wasn't going to take that, he had to regain his manly status.

He said defensively, "I'm fine. You want to go hunting? I'll hunt. I'll kill anything."

"Awwww, he's adorable," Bobby said as Sam nodded with a small laugh. Then he said on a more serious note. "I got to get out of here. You two drive safe."

"You too, Bobby. Hey, thanks!" Sam called, waving at him. Bobby then drove off. Then she addressed Dean. "You want another beer?"

Dean then heard rustling, which prompted him to look over to see what Sam was doing. That's when he fully realized that standing behind her in the middle of the field had its perks. He got to watch those jeans pull tight over her ass as she moved to the cooler to get him a beer. The cooler was too low, so she ended up bending over fully and making those jeans show the tip of those black silky panties. His eyes were painting the back of her ass raw— that line of dark fabric obscuring that slick place he wanted to flick his tongue against.

While shuffling through the cooler, he already thought of at least a hundred ways he could slam her against the Impala and rip those fucking jeans. All he'd need to do was slide a finger inside her and give it a little stir, much like he would a cocktail.

"Here you go— oh!" she jumped.

The hand with the beer just knocked him in the chest and almost spilled. His fault, he guessed. He had no clue how he ended up behind her so quickly.

He reached for the glass, but he wasn't paying any attention to how cold his fingers were getting.

She thought he was standing too close; about half a foot away when he finally chugged the beer. He could feel those brown eyes watching him as he put the glass down behind her on the hood of the Impala next to her empty one. Her pulse started to race and she realized that he didn't plan on moving.

He always wanted to read her up close, but half a foot between them still wasn't enough for him. So he inched forward a little more. Those big, watery, doe eyes just widened in curiosity and a little fear. There was something both erotic and disgusting about him feeling horny because of that. He liked that she didn't know what to expect— that she didn't know what this sick puppy was capable of. But Dean knew curiosity when he saw it.

"Dean…," she barely whispered.

He didn't give a rat's ass anymore if he being fucking obvious. His eyes raked hungrily over her face, from pretty brown hairline to chin, wondering if her curtains matched the carpet underneath those tight jeans. God, he hoped so. That one time when he caught her riding that ex-boyfriend that died, it was still too dark to see everything. And at the time he didn't know it, but he wanted detail every dripping, slippery, pink detail.

He didn't realize he was starting to heave, probably looking like a starved animal in a cage, with bars between him and a gourmet feast. Sam made him insane and he wanted to eat her alive.

"They don't deserve you, beautiful," he heard his voice get husky. "Do those one night stands make you happy?"

The question hung in the small space between them. That blasted look of confusion passed through her eyes. Fuck.

"Yes," she told him. "I'm very happy."

"That's not what I meant, babe."

His face was serious when he said that, only because he meant it and more. She had no idea what he could give her. She had no idea what she wanted until he showed her, so the next time she was out with some random guy, all Sam could think about was fucking Dean.

He craned his head forward, his nose nuzzling the tip of hers as he avoided her trembling lips. But no matter how much he wanted to bury himself inside that hot, slick paradise, he wasn't the type of guy that went without the green light. So he chose to fucking suffer instead.

"Ask me," he said, an inch from her mouth. He bit his tongue quickly after, worried it might come out of its own accord.

She swallowed hard. He could feel that she was torn. Oh yes, he thought Little Saint Sammy was considering a sinner's doing. He didn't want to push, but he wanted a taste. A little one, even if it only came to that.

His hand reached up toward that decadent, pink mouth. His index finger traced her bottom lip before his middle one joined it, sinking into the warm moisture beneath it. It only took a second; the tips of his two fingers wet with her and he wished it were from down south instead. He made sure she was watching him, locking her eyes as he put his digits into his mouth to give them a suck.

"Tastes good," he said. "Think about it."

Then he backed off.

Sam was still riding the previous moment and Dean didn't blame her. She looked kind of stunned, so he gave her a trustworthy grin. Poor girl didn't even fathom that he was turning to go to the driver's side of the Impala, but he added a wave just in case she didn't realize it was time to go.

As he slipped into the driver's side and shut it behind him, he couldn't help but wonder about the state he'd leave her in after eating her senseless. On the other hand, he just fucking screwed himself over and needed to jump into a freezing river.

**Author's Note: Please be sure to review and happy holidays! :—D**


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